


CinderAerith

by bluebellfantasy



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: AU, Aerith Gainsborough Lives, Aerith is precious, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Beta Read, Chocobos, DID I MENTION ZACK FAIR, F/M, Gen, Hojo (Compilation of FFVII) Being An Asshole, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Is this a kissing book?, It's All Hojo's (Compilation of FFVII) Fault, Johnny is a dork, Kingdom of Midgar, Prince Zack, Royal Ball, Royal Zack Fair, Scarlet (ffvii) is a whore and I hate her with a fiery passion, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Ugly Stepsisters - Freeform, ZACK FAIR AS A PRINCE OKAY, Zack Fair Being Zack Fair, Zack Fair Lives, Zack Fair lives inside all of our hearts, evil stepmother, fairy godmother - Freeform, fairytale AU, mentions of abuse, slight ffvii remake spoilers, thematic elements, too many tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebellfantasy/pseuds/bluebellfantasy
Summary: A FFVII spin on the classic tale of "Cinderella," with a fairy-tale AU in the Kingdom of Midgar!Since she was a little girl Aerith has known pain, abuse, neglect, and humiliation. Yet through it all, she remains gentle, kind, and giving. However, she also longs for freedom and escape from her wicked stepmother and her horrible stepsisters.Prince Zack is pressured to find a bride due to his father's cell degeneration. But he only wants one girl: the one he has talked to in the slums while he was in disguise. The one with the kind smile who hands out yellow lilies.The two of them dream seemingly impossible things, but both dream the most impossible: to be together.Warning: Mentions of abuse/neglect.
Relationships: Zack Fair & Aerith Gainsborough, Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough
Comments: 20
Kudos: 30





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoy this! I'm having so much fun writing it! Aerith is TOTALLY a Cinderella type. That is NOT saying she is passive and weak, because that is never how I pictured Cinderella. I always pictured her as a hard worker, as someone who chose to be loving and kind despite the things life handed her. But that is just my humble opinion. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII/Final Fantasy VII Remake belong to Square Enix.

Once upon a time, in another world, there was a very powerful and energy-inefficient kingdom named Midgar. Midgar had two sides to it: the posh world of the Upper Plate, and the Slums below. Everyone above lived a life of decadent ease: food supplies were never short, there was always enough water, and entertainment was readily available. Meanwhile, on the lower plate – or as some liked to call it, “underneath the rotting pizza” - workers never seemed to make ends meet. Factories were always filled with accidents, the fumes of the Mako Reactors causing sickness and disease daily. The streets were littered of children with empty bellies, their eyes sunken.

The all-powerful Shinra dynasty had ruled over the kingdom for many years. Among its many retainers was a noble man named Professor Gast. He was a man of science, always researching, but he also had a kind heart. He saw the starving families of the slums, the harsh accidents in the unsafe factories, the many deaths of men, women and children...and decided to do something about it. Together with is associate Duke Tuesti, he formulated a grand proposal for the king to clean up the slums and make life better for all.

That is, until Professor Gast met... _her._

One day inside Shinra castle, he collided into a young woman. She had fallen backward, her thick brown hair covering her face. As she brushed her hair behind her ears, he caught a glimpse of bright green eyes and a lovely, kind face. It was only a few seconds, but it could have lasted forever. The spell was broken when, muttering a quick apology, she stood up and dashed in the other direction. A few moments later Gast saw his associate, Professor Hojo, chasing after her lecherously. So Professor Gast went to see Mayor Domino to find out about this woman.

 _Ifalna,_ he had thought to himself. _What a lovely name._

She was only a servant girl, and yet she had captured his attention. He made every effort he could to see her, speak with her. She was shy and apprehensive at first, but once realizing his intentions of simply getting to know her, she became much more open. Ifalna proved to be every bit as charming and intelligent as she was beautiful. Being a woman from the slums, she provided marvelous insight that greatly aided Gast and Tuesti’s research.

His affection for her only grew as time passed, until he could hide it no longer. Gast was not only surprised when she reciprocated his feelings, but also relieved that she accepted his immediate proposal. A lot of people in the castle had much to say about an esteemed professor marrying a servant girl, but the two of them paid no heed. There couldn’t have been two happier people. A short time later, as their love deepened, Ifalna became with child. She bore a perfectly healthy little girl, whom they named Aerith. She was every bit as beautiful as her mother, right down to her bright green eyes.

All was well. Or so it seemed.

Professor Hojo was far too interested in their getting married, particularly in their daughter. He wanted to use her for his twisted, scientific purposes. Hojo knew of Ifalna’s true lineage, and devised a plan.

No one in the kingdom of Midgar ever figured out how Professor Gast died. It was very sudden, especially for a man rather young and healthy. But whenever it was brought up in conversation, Professor Hojo seemed strangely knowing about it. But he never said a word. Three months later, Ifalna died under similar suspicious circumstances. However, most everyone simply said she died of a broken heart.

Little Aerith, being only five years old, had no one to care for her. Gast had no living relatives, and Ifalna’s family tree was unknown. Duke Tuesti, being the late Professor Gast’s best friend and associate, insisted that he take Aerith into his care. Hojo, however, knew of this and pulled many more strings to put his plan into action. And so it was that Aerith did not end up in the care of someone who cared for her, but of someone who could not care less.

Lady Scarlet never wanted another child. She already had two daughters of her own: Delilah and Jezebel. They were every bit as selfish, spoiled, rude, and conceited as Aerith was not. But after hearing of Hojo’s plan and of the large sums of money she could obtain from it, she accepted.

Hojo only had one rule for Lady Scarlet: “Keep the girl alive and in reasonably good health.” Scarlet stood by that rule steadfastly.

However, that did not mean that she treated Aerith like a daughter. Far from it. From the time she was a little girl, Aerith was made a scapegoat. She was abused, humiliated, and treated as if she were an animal rather than a human. And yet, through it all, Aerith remained ever gentle and kind. She was still a lovely girl, with light brown hair that curled down her back, bright eyes and a sweet smile. Despite the way she was treated by her stepmother and stepsisters, Aerith chose to look at life in a positive light. She, of all people, knew there was pain and harshness in the world. So she decided to try and make her own little world a good place.

Little did Aerith know, her entire life was about to change.


	2. Chores, Flowers and...a Crash Landing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are introduced to Aerith and her life as a servant girl to her cruel stepmother, Lady Scarlet, and her two daughters. Just another day of chores, hopefully finding time to escape her house for a few hours and visit the kids in the orphanage. Just an ordinary day. 
> 
> Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm so sorry, I meant to upload this a lot sooner. But my job was working me to the bone (thankfully I quit and have more time to write! Yay!) and I've had a hard time motivating myself to write, honestly. But I hope you enjoy this chapter of CinderAerith as much as I enjoyed writing it! I didn't even realize it went on for 11 pages until I was done...oops. XD 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII, FFVII Remake, or any of the characters involved with Square Enix.

It was a quiet morning. The sun had barely started to show its face from beneath the horizon. The dark blues and blacks of the previous night sky were slowly being cast away by rays of bright yellow and orange. Birds awoke, singing their cheerful morning song. The alley cats in the slums stretched sleepily, content to have the warmth on their fur. What little flowers and plant life there were below the plate reached to the sky. No sounds, except for the birds singing. No movement in the streets. No one in the kingdom was awake.

The sunlight reached across the kingdom of Midgar, stretching its rosy fingers into a rather small bedroom window. It rested upon a young woman’s face, as if leaving a heavenly kiss from the sun itself. The young woman sleeping on the bed twitched in her sleep, then blearily opened her eyes a few moments later.

Aerith lazily raised an arm to block the sunlight from her face. _What time is it…?_ She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. 5:50 AM. She still had a few minutes before her alarm went off. Closing her eyes again, Aerith thought hard. What was that dream she was having?

Two faces slowly resurfaced in her memory. A man with dark hair and a kind face. A woman with bright green eyes and a gentle disposition. There was a field full of flowers, and the man was telling her what kind they were. The woman had braided a small crown of them and rested it on top of Aerith’s head. The three of them were laughing.

 _That’s right,_ Aerith thought, opening her eyes. _Mom and Dad._ A tight fist clenched her heart. The pain that came with the few memories she had of her parents was all too familiar, even after all these years of their passing. Knowing there was no way she could sleep now, Aerith sat up and swung her legs out of bed. She stretched, yawning slightly, before walking over to the window. She opened it, looking out at the slums below.

Lady Scarlet’s mansion stood on the cusp of the upper plate. From the main floor you could see the city, and on the second floor you could gaze out at the skyline. On either floor no one would be able to see the slums that were just below them, the endless hustle and bustle of those looking for work or the little children without parents. But since Aerith slept in a small room in the lowest floor behind the storage rooms, she could glance out her window and see it all perfectly.

“Good morning world,” she said softly, looking at the empty streets. She smiled. “Hope you all have a good day today.”

Lady Scarlet and her daughters – and frankly, almost everyone who lived on the upper plate – talked of the slums as if it were a foul disease. They talked about the people even less kindly: “Lazy idiots who don’t know how to work and take advantage of the Kingdom,” as Lady Scarlet once put it. “People like them should be put to sleep.” Her daughters heartily agreed. Aerith, despite being used to her stepmother saying such cruel things, felt a surge of anger. She had to bite her tongue hard to stop herself from retorting.

 _They_ didn’t see how hard working people in the slums were. _They_ didn’t see the starving children, the men and women with missing limbs and fingers, the sorrow and hardship etched on every face. _They_ didn’t see all the dreams these people had, the passion with which they did everything, the hope in their hearts to make things better for their families. As far as Aerith knew, the three women she lived with didn’t see anything except for their own selves in the mirror.

Aerith dismissed her rising frustration at her stepmother with a shake of her head. _The three of them don’t know better,_ she thought. _Still...what they said wasn’t right._

The clock on her bedside table rang loudly. It was now 6 AM. Aerith let out a sigh. _Time for another day in paradise._

____

“ _Aerith,”_ her stepsister said, in what was possibly the rudest voice imaginable, “what is _this_?”

_It’s called breakfast. The first meal of the day, usually._

Aerith bit the inside of her cheek, forcing her voice into a pleasant tone as she turned to face her stepsister. “It’s just eggs and toast. It’s what you always have.” It was perfectly true: the older of her two stepsisters almost always wanted the same thing everyday. And eggs and toast were so simple to make she could have done it herself. But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Jezebel rolled her eyes. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I _don’t_ want the same thing that I had yesterday? It’s called variety.” She shoved the breakfast tray into Aerith’s chest. Aerith managed to catch it before it fell on the floor. “Get me something else,” she snarled. “before I starve to death.”

Aerith let out a breath. “Sure thing.”

“And I need my laundry done in one hour, you hear me? No more, no less. Got it?”

“Yes,” Aerith said quietly.

As she left her stepsisters room, Aerith stared at the breakfast Jezebel rejected. There were children in the slums that would _kill_ for a meal like the one she was holding.

_____

“ _Aerith!”_ a high-pitched voice screeched from the second bedroom. Aerith dashed to the door, wrenched it open and ran inside in one stride.

“Yes, what -?”

“Get over here! _Now!_ ”

Aerith made her way over to the gigantic closet on the left side of the room. Her younger stepsister, Delilah, was struggling to lace up a dress.

“About time,” Delilah sneered.

 _It hasn’t even been one minute,_ Aerith argued silently.

“Well what are you standing there for?! I know you’d kill for a body like mine, but I need you to lace this up in the back!”

Aerith laced up the corset without any further comment. She had endured years of similar remakrs. Where Delilah was curvy and petite, Aerith was taller and willowy. Which, according to the other three women in her family, was a bad thing.

“Is that tight enough?” she asked after a moment.

“Yeah, sure,” Delilah said impatiently. “Now I need you to mend all those over there.” She half-haphazardly gestured to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. “they’re getting tight in some places. And I need it done by the end of the day.”

Aerith nodded as she left. It wasn’t even ten o’clock and she already had a growing list of things.

___

Aerith knocked gently on her stepmother’s door. Upon hearing her cool voice say, “Come in,” Aerith stepped inside. Lady Scarlet was still in bed, sipping her tea.

Her stepmother was a solid block of ice, void of any emotion except those she deemed necessary. Namely, being manipulative and controlling. When Aerith was younger she desperately tried to gain her stepmother’s approval, but to no avail. Even the smallest bit of affection Lady Scarlet showed was only given to her daughters. At one point in time she would have been beautiful, with her long blonde hair and piercing green eyes, but her coldness and cruelty seemed to have permanently etched themselves in her face.

“What would you like me to do today?” Aerith asked.

Lady Scarlet lowered her teacup, giving Aerith a fierce look. “It’s impolite to talk while someone is enjoying tea, _girl_.” She said coolly. “At least have the decency to wait.”

Aerith nodded, determined to keep her mouth shut.

After a few moments Lady Scarlet set the teacup on her nightstand. “And don’t ask me what you need to do. I will tell you. Understand?”

“Yes,” Aerith responded automatically.

“Good,” Scarlet said softly. “Now, just for that, I’m going to add a few things.”

 _Of course you are,_ Aerith thought to herself. Scarlet listed off some mundane items: do the laundry, wash the windows, sweep and mop the floors, prepare meals, mend some clothes, and other things that Lady Scarlet and her daughters could have done themselves but refused to.

“And stop by the bakery to pick up some of those sweet buns. Not the kind with nuts. As well as some potions.” Scarlet paused, then continued. “I will give you money to buy the things, but I expect every bit of it back.” She leaned forward, the venom in her voice dripping from every word. “If even one gil is missing, I will make you pay. Is that clear?”

“...Yes,” Aerith repeated, attempting to ignore the shivers that just ran down her spine.

Her stepmother seemed to notice, however, and a cruel smile bent her lips. “We shall see about that.”

____

Fate seemed to be on Aerith’s side, however. She finished Jezebel’s laundry within an hour, got halfway done with Delilah’s mending, and had done the house cleaning that Scarlet commanded. She got the money from Scarlet and left for the train station, her flower basket tucked in the crook of her arm.

The farther the train went from her house, the more Aerith felt the tension in her shoulders ease. She let out a sigh of relief, staring out the window. Houses and buildings sped by, becoming blurs of washed-away colors. In the distance was Midgar Castle, a towering building that overlooked the whole kingdom.

The train stopped in Sector 5, below the plate. Aerith disembarked, letting out another sigh of relief. There was no way her stepmother and stepsisters would follow her down here. _They would probably complain about the dirt on everything,_ she thought with a bitter smile.

She checked her watch. Since she had gotten everything done relatively early, she could take her time running errands. _I could even stop by the orphanage and church today,_ Aerith thought happily.

She bought the potions at a nearby stand, tucking them into her basket. The baker gave her the buns Scarlet requested, as well as surprising her with a few extra free of charge. “It’s on me,” the man said, winking at her. Aerith managed to stutter out a thank you before scurrying away.

 _You see?_ She told herself as she bit into one. The sweetness of the icing quickly filled her mouth, and she let out a breath of pleasure. _Life’s not that bad. There’s always a silver lining._

Despite telling herself this, Aerith wished she could fully believe it.

____

In no time at all Aerith arrived at the small orphanage in the slums. She walked towards the back of the building, where the sound of children’s voices filled the air. Upon reaching the small play yard, Aerith stood and watched. There were small groups of boys playing with wooden swords, little girls chasing each other, and a select few drawing or reading books underneath the trees. Despite being in an orphanage with no parents and not having much, all of the children had smiles on their faces.

One of the little girls noticed Aerith standing a few feet away. Her face broke into a wide smile.

“Aerith’s here!” she shouted in glee.

She ran towards Aerith, stretching her arms out wide. Aerith stumbled backwards slightly as the small girl collided into her lower half. The girl’s skinny arms wrapped around Aerith’s middle as she buried her face in the fabric of her dress.

“Hi, Lily.” Aerith said with a smile, stroking the girl’s hair. “Doing well today?”

Lily looked up, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Yeah! Miss Forsyth is teaching me how to sew! Look!” she released her grip on Aerith just long enough to reach into her pocket and pull out two small squares of fabric. Upon closer inspection Aerith saw that they were sewn together with three large, sloppy stitches.

“Wow!” Aerith exclaimed. “You did a great job! You’re practically a pro already.”

Lily beamed. “Thank you!”

“Aerith!” a new voice exclaimed.

Aerith looked to her right to see three small boys running towards her. “Aerith, did you bring us any treats?!” the smallest of the bunch asked, looking into her basket.

“Thomas, that’s not polite!”

Miss Forsyth had walked outside, wiping her hands on her dirty apron. She gave the small boy a reproachful look. “At least say hello _before_ you ask something like that.”

“Sorry,” Thomas mumbled, looking down at his feet. The two older boys beside him snickered.

Aerith crouched down so she was at Thomas’ level. “It’s alright, Thomas. Just remember that for next time.” She reached into her basket and pulled out the day-old sweet buns the baker had given her. “You’re in luck today, though.”

“Sweet!” Thomas yelled, reaching out for them.

Aerith stood up, handing the buns to Miss Forsyth. “But only when Miss Forsyth says you can have them, okay?” The boys raised their voices in protest, but Aerith simply shrugged with a smile.

“You really shouldn’t spoil them like that,” the teacher said as the boys ran off to play. Her voice was a bit firm, but she was smiling. “you’ve already got them wrapped around your finger. Especially Thomas. He talks about you all the time.”

Aerith laughed lightly. “Do you need help with anything today?” she asked.

Miss Forsyth gave Aerith a look. “Aren’t you already busy enough? I’m sure you’ve got more important things than -”

Aerith cut her off. “I do, but I _want_ to help. Please?”

After a silent staring contest, Miss Forsyth let out a reluctant sigh. “Well, we could always use help weeding the garden. Some of those weeds are so tough that the kids can’t pull them out.”

Aerith reflected on the teacher’s words as they walked towards the back of the orphanage. _You shouldn’t have offered,_ she said to herself silently. _Now you’ll be late. And you know what happens when you’re late._

She gripped the handle to her flower basket tightly. _Yes, I do…but they’re worth it. These kids don’t have parents, and the orphanage is already understaffed._ The more she thought about the reasons why, the worry of the punishment Scarlet might give her seemed to matter less. _And they need the help_ _much_ _more than Scarlet does._ Feeling satisfied at the retaliation of her own mind, she hummed to herself the rest of the way.

After putting on some old, worn gardening gloves and gently coaxing some kids to help her, Aerith set to work. Miss Forsyth wasn’t kidding; the garden was practically bursting with weeds. The kids could easily pull out the small sprigs, but they asked for her help with the bigger ones.

“Aerith,” Lily said, frowning as she stared at a particularly thick weed. “this one won’t come out.”

Aerith scooted over to Lily. “We’ll try it together, okay? On three.” The two of them gripped the stem of the weed. “One...two...three!”

The weed did not move an inch.

“Huh,” Aerith said, wiping some sweat from her brow. “We may need some man power for this one.”

“Did someone say man power?” a suave voice from behind them asked.

Aerith and Lily turned to see a man walking – or rather, gliding, towards them on an old skateboard.He wore a bright smile on his face. He wore a simple jean jacket with no shirt underneath, which showed off what muscles he had, and tight pants (as he skated towards them, Aerith heard Miss Forsyth stifle a giggle). His dark hair had a red sheen to it in the sunlight. He had a confident air about him, almost arrogant, but those who knew him well knew it was all for show.

However, the skateboard being so old, and Johnny being so...theatrical, he crashed into the nearest garden box. The kids burst into laughter.

“Hey, Johnny,” Aerith said cheerfully.

“Uncle Johnny!” Lily shouted, immediately dropping her gloves and running to him. The other children followed suit, racing towards the young man. Their voices overlapped each others:

“Uncle Johnny, Miss Forsyth told me the cops got you last night. Is that true?”

“Uncle Johnny, can you take me to the train graveyard again?!”

“Johnny, you said you were going to teach me how to drive!”

“One at a time please,” Johnny said, sitting up slowly. “I’m a little slow this morning. But to answer questions -” he pointed to Jenny. “No, the cops did not get me last night. Miss Forsyth is a liar.” He pointed to Hunter. “Probably not anytime soon.” He pointed to Oates. “And yes, I did say that and I did mean it. And it’ll happen soon, I promise.”

“YES!” Oates yelled, pumping his fist in the air. 

“Johnny,” Miss Forsyth said in exasperation, “Oates is ten years old. He can’t drive.”

“Hey, I learned how to drive when I was his age!” Johnny argued. “He’ll be fine. I’ll be with him.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Miss Forsyth mumbled.

Johnny stood up, ignoring her comment as he brushed the dirt off of his clothes. He picked up Betty in one swoop, resting her on his shoulder. “’Sup, ladies?” He gave Lily a reassuring smile. “Uncle Johnny’s always fine.”

“Tell that to the scrape on your arm,” Miss Forsyth said, pointing to an angry red gash on his forearm. Johnny ignored her.

“Do you think you could get this weed out? It’s really stuck in there,” Aerith asked.

“Sure thing.” Johnny crouched down, grasping the weed with his hands. He pulled it out effortlessly, and the kids cheered. Johnny bowed.

“Thanks,” Aerith said with a smile.

“No problem,” Johnny tossed the weed aside. “Hey, did I tell you?!” he randomly said, his whole face lighting up, “I got a car, finally! And it’s an old palace garbage truck, so I know it’ll last a long time!”

“Wow, that’s great! Where did you get it?” Aerith asked eagerly.

Johnny scratched his head sheepishly. “Well...would you believe me if I told you it fell out of the sky?”

Aerith let out a sigh. She knew Johnny wasn’t _exactly_ a follower of the law – he had been in prison more times than she could name for various, silly little things – but this was a bit much, even for him. “Johnny, you can’t just _steal_ a palace vehicle.

“I’m dead serious!” Johnny retorted. “It literally fell right out of the sky on my way here!”

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of Midgar,” Miss Forsyth said, as she handed Johnny a bandage. Johnny scowled.

______

After a solid fifteen minute argument between Miss Forsyth and Johnny about his stealing habits – mainly, Miss Forsyth accusing Johnny of being a bad example to the children – Aerith finished up weeding the garden. After checking the time and bidding them goodbye, she began to walk to her favorite spot. With each passing step, she felt her stresses ease.

The church in Sector 5 always had an air of peace.

Aerith had stumbled upon it by accident one day in her childhood. On a particularly rough day when Lady Scarlet was in an especially foul mood, she felt herself drawn to the abandoned building. From the moment she first stepped inside visiting the church became a necessity. The serenity and quiet filled her up like drink. It was the one place where she not only felt safe, but also felt like she was in control.

She walked inside, the door shutting gently behind her. All sound from outside was muted, leaving nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company. Dragging her small wooden cart behind her, Aerith walked towards the front of the church.

The flowers that grew inside of the church never ceased to amaze Aerith. The thought that something so small could have such willpower as to break through the wooden floor and reach towards the sun was astounding.

_I wish I could have that much strength._

The lilies were a beautiful shade of yellow, with long green stems and thick petals. Aerith gently plucked one and held it to her nose. The dream that she had the night before resurface in her mind, sharper and clearer than before: the man with the kind face. The woman with bright eyes. Herself, dancing in a field of flowers. Aerith turned the memory over and over again in her head as she filled the wagon with flowers, committing their faces to her memory.

The quiet of the church, the sweet smell of flowers, the memory in her mind...it was all so peaceful.

But what happened next happened so fast Aerith wasn’t sure exactly _what_ happened at first. There was a loud crash, the sound of splintering wood, followed by a high-pitched scream. Then there were bits of... _stuff_ falling on her head. They were sharp and hard, and some were heavy. Aerith quickly covered her head, yelling in both shock and pain. Then there was another loud _BANG_ as dust and flower petals flew into the air.

And then silence.

Aerith made herself wait. When nothing more fell on top of her, she slowly lowered her arms. The dust still hung in the air. Aerith coughed, waving her hands to drive it away. When the dust cleared, Aerith took a better look around. Shards and long splinters of wood were scattered around her; she could feel some stuck in her hair. As she looked to her right, she gasped.

Someone was lying there.

“Oh my,” Aerith whispered, crawling towards the person. They wore a dark cloak with a hood that was pulled below their eyes.

_But how did…?_

Aerith looked up. A man-sized hole was in the roof of the church. She let out another gasp. What in the _world_ happened? How far did this person fall before they landed here? They had to have at least fallen from the plate, which was no small distance. No death could be more certain. Were they running from something?

Aerith gently pulled back the man’s hood. She let out a soft gasp.

Her eyes met with a lean face with chiseled features. The man had cheekbones and a jawline so sharp they looked like they could cut through solid granite. Thick black hair sprouted from his head, and it looked as if it grew in sharp spikes. Yet somehow, it also looked luxuriously soft. Aerith reached out a hand to touch it, then quickly drew it back. _You don’t just_ _touch a random man’s hair!_ She scolded herself silently.

But still. It looked so soft.

“Um, hello?” Aerith called softly. “Sir? Are you okay?”

The man remained motionless.

“Sir? Hello?”

No movement.

Aerith’s eyes widened. _Oh no. Is he…?_

It was possible. A fall like that would have killed anyone. Aerith’s blood suddenly felt like it was made of ice. What was she supposed to do with a dead body?! How would she drag it outside of the church without rousing suspicion? And more importantly, _where_ would she put it?

_Hold on. You don’t even know if he_ _ is _ _dead._ _Check for a pulse._

Aerith forced herself to take a deep breath. _Sorry about this,_ she apologized to the man silently. She gently laid her head on his chest, right where his heart would be. Even through the fabric of his shirt she could feel the warmth of his skin.

A slow but steady rhythm filled her ear. _Ba-dum. Ba-dum._

“Oh, thank heavens,” Aerith said aloud, relieved.

“Uh. What are you doing?” a deep voice said.

Aerith nearly felt her own heart stop in shock. She sat up, gasping in surprise, only to see that the man’s eyes were now opened. He was staring right at her curiously.

“I – I’m so sorry!” Aerith managed to say, inwardly wincing at how squeaky her voice sounded. “I just – well, I thought that you were – um – I was checking to -” She bit her lip hard in frustration; why couldn’t she speak?!

To her surprise, the man laughed. “I mean, I’m not used to waking up with a girl’s head on my chest, but I’m not complaining.”

Aerith felt heat rise to her face. “Sorry,” she mumbled, averting her eyes.

“Don’t apologize,” the man said, groaning slightly as he tried to sit up. Aerith quickly scooted over to him and gently pushed him upwards. “Thanks,” he added, smiling. For someone who just fell through the roof of a church, he was in a weirdly good mood.

“Are you okay?” Aerith asked, in an attempt to distract herself from her embarrassment. She carefully glanced over his whole body.

“Yeah, why?” he asked, stretching his arms slightly.

“Careful!” Aerith said in alarm. A couple of deep scratches she hadn’t seen before were bleeding. Thinking quickly, she reached into her basket and handed the man one of the potions she bought at the market. “Here, drink this.”

The man looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to take it from you, and I don’t feel too bad.”

“You’re bleeding,” Aerith pointed at the blood on his arms. “and considering the fact that you just fell through the roof,” she pointed upwards at the light streaming in through the hole in the ceiling, “you’re gonna need it. It’d be on my conscience if you didn’t recover.”

The man stared at her. Aerith tried not to notice how his eyes were a gorgeous, bright blue, or how he had a scar on his jawline. Or how, despite barely talking to him, she felt comfortable.

“Thanks,” he finally said, taking the potion from her. His fingertips brushed hers. There was a moment of silence as he drank the potion, and the cuts on his arms began to mend themselves. “So...I fell through the roof?” he asked, in an awkward tone of voice.

Aerith stifled a laugh. “Yeah. Nearly scared me to death, too. I was just picking flowers when all the sudden, there you were!” She cocked her head in interest. “My question is, how did you manage to do that?”

She was surprised to see the man’s face go slightly pink. “Its...a long story.” He took another swig of potion, avoiding her eyes.

“I thought I would have to drag your dead body outside for a moment,” Aerith said with another small laugh.

The man laughed. “Well, I guess today is your lucky day cause it’ll take a lot more than falling through a roof to get rid of me.” He smiled. “What was your name again?”

“Aerith.” She stuck out her hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr…?”

The man looked at her hand for a moment longer than was necessary before taking it in his own. “You can call me Kaz.”

“That’s...a name I’ve never heard of,” Aerith teased slightly as they shook hands. His hands were calloused and warm.

Kaz laughed. “Blame my parents, they gave it to me.” The two of them laughed. He suddenly stood up and stretched without any noise of pain escaping him. The potion was clearly taking effect. “So, Aerith, in addition to crashing into this building and scaring you, I also crushed some of your flowers.” he gestured to the now crushed patch of lilies that he had landed on.

“They’re alright,” Aerith replied, glancing at the flowers. “they’re actually pretty tough. See? they’re hardly wilted.” she pointed at them.

“Sorry about that. Although they did cushion my landing.” A playful smile crept onto his face. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

Aerith blinked. “Oh, that’s not necessary,” she said, waving her hands emphatically. “really, it’s not your fault -”

“It kind of is,” Kaz pointed out.

“Well still, I don’t think there’s -”

“I insist,” Kaz emphasized. “there’s got to be _something_ I can do.”

“Well…” Aerith glanced around, her mind reeling. She wasn’t used to the one being helped. Usually she was the one doing the helping (or, at least in Scarlet’s case, the chores). It was a strange feeling. _You shouldn’t burden someone you just met,_ she told herself. But Kaz did seem willing to help…

Aerith looked at her watch. She still had time before she had to be home. Her eyes landed on her flower cart, and she felt herself smile. “Okay. I’ve got an idea.”


	3. A Good Day Ends With Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What starts out as a skip-day from princely duties, turns into meeting someone new for the Crown Prince of Midgar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm excited for you guys to read this next chapter :D 
> 
> Just as a side note, I will continue to update as soon as I'm able, but I am also starting school next week. My education is my top priority, but I promise I will write and update as much as possible. Also, as a result of that, the chapters may be a bit shorter than these first two. Hope you're all okay with that! Thanks for all the support for this story so far. I'm having a ton of fun writing it. If you like it, please comment!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII, or any of the characters involved in it.

The Crown Prince of Midgar had _not_ planned on getting into a car accident that morning. Technically, it wasn’t even an accident. More like a small...fender-bender. At least he got _out_ of the car before any major damage occurred.

Zack had had a normal day before that. He had woken up around six, got dressed, and ate breakfast. His butler droned on about the schedule for the day – mainly attending to boring meetings, practicing his sword fighting and his usual morning lessons. “It is an honor and privilege to have these things, milord,” the butler had said. “not everyone in Midgar is so lucky.”

 _Yeah, yeah,_ Zack thought to himself glumly. _But at least people outside the castle have a life outside of lessons and training. _

It wasn’t that Zack hated his life. Far from it. He enjoyed training with swords, learning new skills and he liked most of his tutors. He knew he was lucky. But that was the extent of his whole life: training, learning, attending meetings, rinse and repeat. And it had only gotten more rigorous as Zack grew up. That and the constant, hovering pressure of knowing he would take the throne one day nearly made him sick with stress. He was a young man now, out of his teenage years and ready to take life by the horns. Just not in the way that his father wanted him to. A life devoted to boring political meetings, signing documents and meeting with people? Zack would pass on it, if he could.

A prince can only take so much.

Which is what led him to do what he had never done before: take a day off.

The idea terrified him – what if he got caught? What if his father found out? What kind of punishment would he face for doing it? But the more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him. How long had it been since he had been outside the palace walls? How long had it been since he was able to take things at his own place, go where he wanted to go and see what he wanted to see? When Zack couldn’t recall a time when he last did that, he knew it had been too long.

There was an old black traveling cloak hung up in his closet. It had a hood that would do more than enough coverage. Everything was going to plan.

Until the Duke stopped him.

“Your Highness, where are you going?” Duke Tuesti asked. “You’ve got a meeting that starts in fifteen minutes.”

“Not today,” Zack said breezily. “I’m heading out.” The Duke opened his mouth to speak, but Zack cut him off. “I won’t be gone for long. Two hours, at the most. Cover for me, alright?” Zack gave a wink before rounding the corner.

Duke Tuesti sighed. “Fine,” he said to the empty air around him. “Zack, you are going to be the death of both me and your father.”

_____

Zack exited the castle, continuously looking over his shoulder. Seeing that no one was following him yet, he let out a breath of relief. _Step one, complete. Now, where to find a car…?_

As if it were a gift from the Goddess herself, Zack noticed a palace truck only a few yards away from him. It was a rather large, bulky vehicle that was mainly used to take the numerous bags of waste from the castle. _...Well, it’s better than nothing._ Zack thought as he ran towards it, hoping against hope that the keys were inside. He found it unlocked, and after he climbed inside he rummaged through the glove box. To his delight, a spare key was in a small envelope.

 _Today is a_ _ very _ _good day._

Zack put the key in the ignition, letting out a sigh of relief. It was a miracle that no one had spotted him yet. Still looking over his shoulders every few seconds, Zack carefully made his way outside of the palace gates. Soon enough the castle was in his rearview mirror.

“Yeah!” Zack shouted to the empty air in the truck. “That was a piece of cake. I should do this more often. Now, where to go...”

It suddenly dawned on him that while he was eager to get _out_ of the palace, he wasn’t quite sure where to _go._ Zack thought hard as he drove (how long had it been since he drove?), being careful to not draw attention to himself. At one point he was so cautious that many cars behind him honked their horns, urging him to drive faster.

“I feel like an idiot,” Zack said aloud. “I get out of the castle and I don’t even know where to go.”

But still. It was nice to just get out and drive. Zack looked out of the windows at the scenery around him, drinking it in. Had Midgar always looked so good, or was just because he hadn’t seen it in a while? Zack rolled down the window, taking a deep breath of fresh air. Already it felt like his stresses were melting away.

The person driving the car behind him honked the horn. Zack glanced down at the speedometer. In his uneasiness, he had been driving nearly ten miles under the limit. Zack quickly turned onto the on-ramp, muttering an apology as he sped up. He smiled widely at the sight in front of him.

The highway stretched out like an endless path to freedom. The concrete jungle of the city surrounded him, some buildings reaching higher than the clouds. The sun was starting to rise high in the sky. Zack glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. It was only late morning. He had plenty of time. He took a sharp right.

_BEEEEEEEEEEP!_

Zack rolled his eyes as yet another car honked its horn. He was going the speed limit; what were they complaining about? If they had such a hard time behind him, why didn’t they pass?

Going so fast without a care in the world and the wind in his hair, Zack didn’t even notice it at first. At first he thought he imagined it. But after blinking a few times and shaking his head, he knew what he was seeing.

The road in front of him had suddenly ended. The bright orange cones and striped signs in front of it proved why.

His mind flashed back to the car that honked its horn at him. Zack’s eyes widened in horror. _They were probably trying to warn me not to go that way._ The cones and signs grew ever closer, and Zack’s mind finally seemed to snap out of its stupor. He slammed the brakes as hard as he could, wincing at the sound of the squealing tires. Zack yanked the wheel left and right, desperately trying to avoid the road signs. His heart pounded in his ears, his breath coming out in short spurts.

The truck finally skidded to a stop. Zack could faintly smell burnt rubber through the still open window. He let out a huge sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair. _Man, that was close._ He shut his eyes. _Note for next time: pay attention to road signs._

Then, a thousand things seemed to happen at once.

There was a loud, creaking noise. The entire truck lurched downwards. Zack opened his eyes to see the city below him. His stomach dropped. The truck must have stopped right at the edge of the road, and gravity was doing its job. The truck was going to fall off any second. All that was keeping Zack inside of the car was his seat belt.

_Oh, sweet mother of -_

Too late. The truck was already falling.

Somehow Zack was able to think clearly. He unbuckled his seat belt, opened the driver’s side door, and jumped out. As he fell, the city flashing in blurs around him, Zack thought to himself: _well, maybe someone will put that stupid truck to good use. I just wish I said bye to Dad before I left…_

The roof of a building was coming towards him. Zack shut his eyes tight and braced for death.

_____

The next thing he knew, warm sunlight was hitting his face. Zack opened his eyes blearily. He was looking up at a high ceiling, which strangely had light streaming through it. _Oh good, I’m not dead,_ he thought in relief. He tried to sit up, but his whole body felt heavy. He looked around. _Where am I?_

“Oh, thank goodness.” he heard a voice say. He glanced down to see a young woman, her ear pressed to his chest.

Zack cleared his throat a little. “Uh. What are you doing?”

She gave a cute, frightened noise as she immediately sat up and stammered some sort of excuse. “I just – well, I thought that you were – um – I was checking to -”

With her face so red and her voice so squeaky, Zack couldn’t help but laugh. “I mean, I’m not used to waking up with a girl’s head on my chest, but I’m not complaining.” He held back a snicker as her face grew even more flushed.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, looking away from him.

Zack told her not to apologize – it was his own fault, not hers – and she helped him sit up. As she did so, Zack took better look at her. Her hair was a light brown, tied up in a simple braid. She had delicate features: high cheekbones, cupid’s bow lips and a cute nose. Overall, she had a very kind face. But what took him aback the most were her eyes. They were a bright, almost unearthly green with long lashes.

“Thanks,” he said as she helped him sit up. His voice came out softer than he meant it to.

“Are you okay?” the girl asked, looking concerned.

Zack had begun to stretch his very stiff arms. “Yeah, why?”

“Careful!” she exclaimed. Zack looked at her curiously, then down at his arms. All across his forearms and biceps were cuts varying in size and depth. A few of them had begun to bleed. _What the..._

“Here,” she said, digging into a small flower basket next to her. She pulled out a potion and handed it to him. “drink this.”

Zack looked at her in confusion. “Are you sure? I don’t want to take it from you, and I don’t feel too bad.”

“You’re bleeding,” the girl insisted, pointing at the blood running down his arms. “and considering the fact that you just fell through the roof, you’re gonna need it. It’d be on my conscience if you didn’t recover.”

The longer Zack looked at her, the more he noticed. The small jacket she was wearing over her dress was fraying at the sleeves. Her soft pink dress had patches in random places; some even had patches on top of other patches. Her hands were dirty. Looking into her face, Zack noticed that her cheekbones were a bit prominent, like it had been a while since she had had a good meal.

Looking at the poor citizens of the kingdom always made Zack feel guilty. Why should they suffer so much while he and the whole top plate had food and clothing in abundance? In this situation, how could he accept something from this girl that probably cost her more than just a few gil? He wanted to refuse her kind offer but the fierce, determined look in her eyes told him otherwise.

“Thanks,” he finally said, taking the potion from her hand. Their fingertips brushed. Zack slowly drank the potion, trying not to gag at the familiar yet bitter taste. The cuts on his arms soon began to mend themselves, as if an invisible needle and thread were tying them together.

Zack reflected on what she previously said. “So...I fell through the roof?” he asked. _Wow, Zack. Great conversation starter._ At least that explained why the sun was on his face when he woke up.

The girl stifled a laugh. “Yeah. Nearly scared me to death, too. I was just picking flowers when all the sudden, there you were!” She cocked her head in interest. It reminded Zack of a confused puppy. “My question is, how did you manage to do that?”

Flashes of what had happened scattered across Zack’s mind: not seeing the other car, wrenching the wheel the other direction, the sheer horror that he was going to fall off the plate, jumping out of the car… _You couldn’t make up something that ridiculous if you tried,_ he thought to himself. “Its...a long story,” he said, feeling his face heat up. He took another swig of potion, solely for the sake of avoiding conversation.

“I thought I would have to drag your dead body outside for a moment,” the girl said, laughing slightly.

Zack couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of this random girl dragging a dead body outside. “Well, I guess today is your lucky day because it’ll take a lot more than falling through a roof to get rid of me.” He smiled. “What was your name again?”

“Aerith.” She stuck out a hand. “Please to make your acquaintance, Mr…?”

Zack stared at her hand, his thoughts in a wild frenzy. She hadn’t recognized him as the Prince of Midgar _yet,_ but she might connect the dots if she knew his name. Most of the citizens treated him like a normal person until they found out he was royalty. After that, they would almost seem fake with their kindness. _Yet another_ _problem_ _of being a prince,_ he thought to himself.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about this girl – Aerith, he corrected himself – that only increased his desire to keep his identity secret.

“You can call me Kaz,” he said finally.

 _Wow. Your name, backwards. Reeeeeeally smooth, Zack._ He told his thoughts to shut up as Aerith began to speak.

“That’s...a name I’ve never heard of,” Aerith teased slightly as they shook hands. Her palms were soft.

Zack shrugged. “Blame my parents, they gave it to me.” She laughed again. Zack felt his smile widen at the sound of it.

____

Soon enough, the cuts on Zack’s arms healed. He had apologized for crushing her flowers, but she simply waved her hand and said they were tough enough. The more she talked, the more Zack wanted to stay with her. Just the two of them in this small church in the slums. It made his rather complex life seem so small, so simple.

So it was that, after practically begging her to let him repay her somehow, Aerith had said he could help her sell flowers. And Zack agreed wholeheartedly. No way was he going back to the castle _now._ The fun was just starting.

“So Kaz,” Aerith asked as they left the church, “what do you do?”

It took Zack a few seconds to realize that she was talking to him. _Oh. Right. The name thing._ “Uh, nothing interesting,” he replied awkwardly.

Aerith looked over her shoulder at him, a sly look on her face. “I’m sure that’s not true. You fall through roofs; that’s pretty interesting.”

Zack snorted. “That was one time,” he shot back, in a friendly tone of voice. After a moment he said, “I...get around. Do a little bit of everything.”

“Well then, what’s your favorite thing?” Aerith asked patiently.

“Sword training,” Zack answered immediately.

Aerith’s smile widened. “Really? That’s super neat!”

“What about you?” Zack asked in return.

Aerith’s smile seemed to falter a little. “Nothing much, really. Run errands, do some sewing, clean house. But I just like to come to the church as often as I can.” She shrugged. “My life’s not super special.”

Zack paused mid-step. The small cart he was pulling behind him hit the back of his knees. “I’m sure that’s not true,” he replied, echoing her previous words. “everyone’s life is special in some way.”

Aerith opened her mouth to reply, but just as quickly closed it. She simply gave him a smile in response. The sudden sadness in her eyes took Zack aback.

“I usually sell them over in the town square,” Aerith said softly, breaking the silence. “The market is usually busy around this time of day.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Zack replied, in just as soft of a voice. Something inside of him told him not to pry the issue any further.

____

They made light conversation as they walked through the slums to the town square. He quickly learned that yellow lilies were her favorite flower, she knew most of the people they passed by, and that she was only a year younger than him in age.

“What about family?” he asked curiously.

She paused for a moment before answering. “Just a stepmother and two stepsisters.” She fiddled with a loose string on her dress, not looking at him. “What about you?” she asked, quickly turning the tables.

“I’m an only child,” Zack said smoothly. It was perfectly true. The closest thing he had to siblings were his servants.

“That sounds a bit lonely,” Aerith remarked. Zack stared. She had said it so casually, as if she were talking about the weather. All the same, Zack felt as if his heartstrings were plucked like a harp. The pain reverberated throughout his body, bringing to life a familiar feeling he detested.

Zack had told himself multiple times that he had no right to feel lonely: he had more than most people could ever dream of. And yet, there was a constant gnawing at his heart. A hollowness that had never quite been filled, no matter how much he learned or how much he trained. The best Zack could do was distract himself from it. But even then, the imprint of it was always there.

“I’m sorry,” Aerith suddenly apologized. “that was a bit too personal of me to say.”

Zack shook his head, forcing a smile. “No, not at all. It was honest.”

Aerith pointed to a small space up ahead, between a man selling scrap metal and a woman selling jewelry. “I usually set up right there.”

“Got it.”

The town square was full of small booths and vendors selling food, clothing, weapons, potions and other needful things. Already it was bustling with busy people, their voices overlapping one another. Children’s voices echoed in the midst of them, some holding onto a parents hand and others getting things themselves. Men and women were packed closely together like sardines, rude retorts being thrown left and right. It was so crowded that Zack and Aerith had to ask multiple times to get through. Zack smiled to himself at the idea of using the flower cart as some sort of battering ram.

“Does it get this crowded down here often?” he asked as he parked the cart.

“Always,” Aerith said, starting to rearrange some of the flowers. “it’s the only time some people have to shop. And for others, selling things is their only source of income.”

Zack glanced at the man to their left selling scrap metal. “They don’t have jobs?”

“They do, they just don’t get paid as well as they should be.” Aerith sighed heavily. “it’s really quite sad. But still, they keep going. They all have hopes and dreams of a better life, and that’s what drives them.” She looked up at him with a smile.

“Do you feel the same? About a better life, I mean.” Zack asked.

The sadness he had seen before they left the church filled her eyes again. “My life’s not as bad as some,” she said finally. “but I’ve got dreams, if that’s what you mean.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know,” Aerith said evasively, brushing some dirt off of her dress. “a little of this and a little of that. How about you?”

“A little of this and a little of that,” Zack repeated her words with a small smirk.

“Well, aren’t you a sassy one!” Aerith gasped in a falsely shocked voice, putting her hands on her hips. “and here I thought you were a total sweetheart for offering to help me out!”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Zack said, in a cheeky tone of voice. “My mom used to say the same thing.”

Aerith’s smile faltered a little. “Used to? Is she…?”

“Yeah,” Zack sighed, feeling annoyed at himself. “She died when I was six.”

Grief is a strange thing. Oftentimes when Zack thought of his mother, he smiled and recalled their moments together with joy. But other times, he couldn’t bear the thought of her. The Queen’s sudden passing after a harsh sickness left Zack and his father in a whirlwind of turmoil. The King buried his grief in his work, while Zack was left with it crushing his chest. Sometimes he could ignore it. Sometimes he couldn’t.

Aerith placed a hand on his arm in comfort. “I’m so sorry to hear that. If it’s any consolation, I know the feeling. My parents...they died when I was five.”

“You lost _both_ of your parents?” Zack asked, slightly shocked. At Aerith’s nod he put a hand over her own. “That really sucks. I’m sorry that happened.”

“Yeah,” Aerith said quietly. “it _really_ sucks.”

For a moment, the sadness in Aerith’s beautiful eyes seemed to overwhelm her. Zack was fully ready to wipe away any tears, but in an instant Aerith put a bright smile back on her face.

“Well, no use moping about it. It was a long time ago, and I know they’re looking out for me.”

Her change of mood happened so quickly it nearly gave Zack whiplash. The two of them continued to set up the booth. Aerith had a smile the whole time, but Zack thought he saw her turn away and wipe her eyes more than once.

____

As it turned out, not only did the people in the slums know Aerith, they _loved_ her flowers. Men, women and children alike came by in a steady flow, exchanging the yellow lilies for gil. Aerith turned none away, and depending on how much money they had, charged different prices. There were a few instances she gave some away with no charge at all.

The two of them shared casual conversation, talking about anything and everything: the weather, the customers that stopped by, the economy, even things as little as the shapes of the clouds. She teased him about falling through the roof. He teased her about having a green thumb. Without any sort of warning at all, her laugh became the best sound Zack had ever heard.

Talking to her was just so _easy._

Zack decided that he was going to sneak out much more often.

“We did really good today!” Aerith exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly. “I’ve never been this busy.” She gave Zack a bright smile. “You must be a magnet for good luck.”

“I don’t know about that,” Zack said with a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “but hey! You’ve got enough to reimburse that potion I stole from you.”

“You didn’t _steal it,_ ” Aerith corrected. “I gave it to you, silly. But you’re right.” She picked up the now nearly empty flower basket and put it back in the wagon.

“Hold on a second,” Zack blurted out, reaching into his pocket. He handed Aerith a few gil. “I’ll take a flower.”

Aerith raised a brow in amusement, but didn’t comment. She handed him one of the last lilies in the basket.

 _You got this,_ Zack thought to himself, trying to crush the nerves that came so suddenly. It seemed to happen in slow motion: he raised his hand, brought it to her face, and gently tucked the flower behind her right ear. He could see her face turn pink out of the corner of his eye.

“There,” he said softly.

“W-What’s that for?” Aerith asked, her voice a bit shaky.

Zack grinned. “For letting me help out, and for a good time.” Before he could stop himself, he brushed some stray hairs out of her face, tucking them behind the flower stem.

“….you’re welcome.” Aerith said, her voice slightly higher than normal.

Zack’s hand didn’t seem to want to stray from her face. He cupped her face in his hand. Her skin was smooth and soft. _Too forward!!!_ his thoughts seemed to scream at him. _Don’t scare her, you dope!_ But Aerith didn’t pull back. If anything, he felt herself relax into his hand.

“I hope we can do this again sometime,” he said, meaning every word.

Aerith smiled. “Likewise.”

The spell was broken by the chiming of a nearby clock. It struck four times. Zack was beginning to wonder how time flew so quickly, but was caught off guard by Aerith’s gasp.

“Oh no, is it that time already?!” she exclaimed.

“I guess so?” Zack answered hesitantly.

“Oh no!” Aerith stepped back from him, scurrying around frantically. She all but yanked the flower basket out of the wagon as she said, “I’m so sorry, but I’m late! I have to go!”

“Late?” Zack’s brow furrowed. “late for what?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have stayed this long,” he heard Aerith say to herself as she looked inside the basket. “now I’m late and...oh no, this is not good...okay, I’ve got everything, that’s good...” Her words came out in one small breath, all mangled together. She glanced up at Zack and smiled. The smile didn’t reach her eyes, and her face was pale. “It was nice meeting you, Kaz. I had fun today. Bye!”

Before Zack could reply, she had run off, her long braid bouncing behind her.

 _...what could she be late for?_ Zack thought, as he watched her retreating figure. _It’s only four in the afternoon._ He glanced at the flower cart. _Might as well put this back in the church._

The entire walk back, Zack pictured her face in his mind. One moment she had flushed cheeks and a gentle smile, only to have it all vanish like melted snow. Her entire body had gone rigid, her jaw clenched and walking stiffly. When she bid Zack goodbye, her smile looked forced. There was genuine fear in her eyes.

What was it that she was so afraid of?

______

Seeing as the truck he drove in the morning was no longer an option, Zack donned his cloak, pulled the hood over his face, and took the train. He silently prayed that no one would recognize him. But seeing as no one had when he was with Aerith, he let himself relax slightly.

It was nearly six o’clock when he managed to sneak back into the castle. He had barely made it back to his quarters when the door burst open.

“Your Highness!” a frantic voice from behind him said.

Zack, who was just about to take off his cloak, turned around. Duke Tuesti was standing there, panting hard with sweat on his brow. Without so much as a hello, Duke Tuesti marched over to him, fire in his eyes.

“Do you realize how long you’ve been gone?!” he shouted. “Everyone has been looking for you!”

“Keep your voice down!” Zack hissed, pointing to the still open door to his bedroom. “And I know, I’m sorry, I just -”

“You said you’d only be gone for a little while! _Six hours is not a little while, Your Highness!”_ With every word, Duke Tuesti’s voice only grew louder.

Zack dashed to the door, slammed it shut, and rested against it. “I _know,”_ he repeated, in a calm voice. “And like I said, I’m sorry. I lost track of time. It just felt so good to be outside and -”

“I realize that,” Duke Tuesti retorted, “but what was I supposed to tell them after two hours? That I didn’t know where you were?!” He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his dark hair. “I can only cover you for so long, Your Highness.”

The silence that followed only magnified the guilt in Zack’s heart. “I’m sorry, Reeve,” he mumbled. “I honestly just lost track of time.”

Duke Tuesti sighed again. “I can understand that, seeing as how you haven’t been out in a while. But what on earth were you doing that made you so late?”

“Uh...nothing.” Zack said, in as innocent a tone as he could manage. _He probably wouldn’t believe me if I told him I was selling flowers below the plate._

“Well if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine,” the Duke dismissed with a wave of his hand. “but what’s most important is this: your father would like to see you right away.”

Zack’s breath caught in his throat. “Is everything alright?”

“The physician came to see him today,” Duke Tuesti continued, in a much softer voice than he was using moments ago. “and the King wishes to tell you the news.”

Reeve suddenly looked much older than his age, and the energy he had seemed to vanish. He looked about ready to collapse with exhaustion. Zack’s heart kicked into overdrive.

“Reeve, what’s going on?”

“He wants to tell you himself,” Reeve nearly whispered. “Go to him, Your Highness.”

Zack didn’t need to be told twice. He wrenched the door open and bolted down the hallway. He vaguely heard voices greeting him, asking him where he had been, but the pounding in Zack’s ears drowned them out. His heart beat faster, his breath coming out in shallow spurts. Fear chased him like a giant snake, catching up to him and sinking its fangs into Zack’s stomach.

Zack swallowed hard, tasting bile. _This can’t be good._

____

“You wanted to see me, Father?”

King Angeal snapped out of his stupor, glancing down at who just spoke to him. His son, the Prince of Midgar, knelt in front of the throne, his face still bent to the ground. The King felt his mouth twitch in amusement as his son repeated the question, breathing so hard he was wheezing.

“Rise, Zack. There’s no need for that when it’s just you and me.”

Zack scrambled to his feet. His brow furrowed, a worried look on his face. “Duke Tuesti said you wanted to speak to me about the visit with the physician.” He took a step forward. “Is it bad? What’s going on?” Another step forward. “Is it curable? Do you have some sort of disease? What is -”

King Angeal raised his hand, and Zack immediatley fell silent. 

He sighed. “I’m afraid it is serious.” the King adjusted himself in his chair, avoiding his son’s eyes. “it’s more serious than we thought it was.”

Zack took yet another step forward. “How bad is it?”

For months now, King Angeal had been unusually weary. No one questioned it at first; when one had the weight of a whole kingdom on their shoulders, it was a small wonder that they were exhausted. Angeal had always been a healthy man and had handled the pressure with grace and poise. However, it seemed that the King had been experiencing exhaustion to an extreme. His face had become more lined, the bags under his eyes more prominent. The need for a physician came when King Angeal had suddenly fainted while walking the grounds with Zack. It had only happened a few days ago. Zack still felt shivers erupt all over his body whenever he remembered it.

“Bad,” the King said, after a moment of silence.

“But what _is_ it?” Zack pressed. “Do you need a special remedy or potion?”

“Remedies and potions won’t do much for this,” King Angeal said quietly.

Zack felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “What do you mean?”

At last, the King looked Zack right in the eyes. “I’m dying, Zack.”

Zack was already short of breath, but whatever air he had left seemed to vanish. “I-I’m sorry, _what?”_ He didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice.

“I’m dying,” his father repeated, much more quietly.

The shock of those words hit Zack all over again, his heart stopping. If a bolt of lightning suddenly appeared and struck him, he would have been less surprised. His father, the King of Midgar, _dying?_ But how? His father was as healthy as a horse, and just as strong.

“What...what..” Zack swallowed, then tried again. “What’s going on? What did the physician say?”

“He took a few samples of blood,” the King explained patiently, “and looked at them carefully. He cannot explain why, but my blood cells seem to be...degenerating.”

“Degenerating?” Zack repeated stupidly. “What do you -”

“My body is failing, Zack.” King Angeal said, in a defeated tone of voice. “the physician doesn’t know why, but he said he would take a closer look and do some research. It’s nothing he has ever seen before.”

Zack ran his hands through his hair. _What...how...why...I don’t understand…_

“I wanted to tell you myself,” the King said quietly, “so that you wouldn’t hear rumors from anyone else. Aside from you, I’ve only told Duke Tuesti.”

The floor seemed to sway beneath Zack’s feet. He couldn’t seem to get any air, no matter how deeply he breathed. His knees buckled, and he felt himself hit the floor. He slowly sat up, ignoring his father’s questioning as to whether he was okay. _Am I okay? What do you think?!_ He thought savagely.

After a moment of tense silence, King Angeal spoke again. “I don’t know how much time I have left, but we need to prepare. That includes me getting as much done as I am able and teaching you alongside your regular lessons.”

Zack wasn’t sure if he wanted to cover his ears, scream, or cry like a little boy. Or possibly do all three; he could already feel tears pushing at the back of his eyes. How could his father go on so casually? He was _dying,_ for heaven’s sake! This was not the time to be talking about preparing, teaching additional lessons, and whatever else seemed to be important.

As if reality couldn’t hit Zack any harder, as if the sudden pain and grief of losing another parent wasn’t enough...what his father said next hit him with all the force of a giant sledgehammer.

“This also means you need to prepare to wed.”


	4. Silver Linings and Quiet Treachery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see what happens to Aerith when she is late, Zack's feelings about getting married, a Royal Court meeting, and a secret meeting between two accomplices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for being so patient with this story, especially since I'm back in school. Thankfully, things are going really well in school so far and I am enjoying myself very much :) your support for my writing means the word! so without further ado, here is the next chapter of CinderAerith! Please feel free to comment and leave kudos :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I still don't own any part/aspect of FFVII.

_Breathe._

It was an exceptionally hard thing to do when it seemed like the air itself was made of mud.

_Breathe. You’re okay._

Aerith held her breath for a few seconds before slowly letting it out. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, much faster than usual. She gripped the pole as the train made a sharp left.

_It’s gonna be okay._

Aerith let out another deep breath, closing her eyes. The panic that had set in after realizing how late it was had a firm grip on her. Her entire body felt like it was doused in icy water. She had only a vague recollection of actually getting on board the train – a small frame of sanity in a scene full of fear. While her brain was scrambling to think of an excuse for her stepmother, her body went on autopilot. A few people had looked at her in concern, but Aerith ignored them. All that mattered was getting on the train and hoping it would somehow get back to the Upper Plate quicker than usual.

_You’ve been through this before. Everything will be fine...eventually._

Aerith opened her eyes as her heartbeat slowed. The thought was perfectly true – she was late going home on one other occasion. At that time she had been helping out Miss Forsyth with the children, most of whom had come down sick with colds and fevers. There was no one else to help her out, and one woman couldn’t take care of all those kids by herself (as much as Miss Forsyth insisted she could). As a result of arriving home so late, Lady Scarlet declared Aerith go two days without food, along with some other harsh words.

Going without a meal or two wasn’t unusual for Aerith, but the gnawing hunger in her stomach was something she never got used to.

 _I got all of the things she needed,_ Aerith thought to herself. She let go of the pole she was hanging onto, wincing as the blood rushed back into her numb fingers. _Maybe that will make up for something this time. Or maybe she won’t notice what time it is?_ She shook her head at herself; that was a stupid thing to think. Of course her stepmother would notice. Lady Scarlet noticed _everything._

 _It’ll be okay,_ she repeated to herself.

...but would it?

Aerith shooed these thoughts away, brushing some flyaway hairs out of her face. Her fingertips touched something smooth close to her ear. Aerith gently pulled the flower out from behind her ear, looking at it closely. All of the church’s yellow lilies looked exactly alike, and yet this one seemed more yellow and beautiful than usual. The sweet, familiar smell of it seemed stronger as she brought it to her nose.

Her mind reflected back on Kaz. He acted a bit strange at first, but he was very kind. It wasn’t everyday that someone offered to help Aerith instead of the other way around. He had made her laugh, multiple times. For some reason he seemed awfully intent on making her smile as much as possible. And it had worked: Aerith felt the slight pain in her cheekbones from laughing and smiling so much. The walls she had built to protect herself from any additional pain were on shaky ground.

 _How come I’ve never seen him before?_ Aerith wondered, gently putting the flower back behind her ear. _I see the same people nearly everyday. Is he new in town?_ She suddenly remembered that the hood of his traveling cloak had been brought down below his eyes when he had crashed through the roof. _No one would be hiding their face like that..._

Her thoughts finished the sentence for her: unless they were already hiding from something.

_What would he be hiding from?_

_____

Aerith walked off the train and began to speed walk towards the house. Thankfully it wasn’t too far away from the station. She nearly tripped a few times, but quickly caught her balance. She glanced at her watch again: by her stepmother’s standards, she was _very_ late now. She broke into a light jog, ignoring the curious glances sent her way.

At last, the house appeared before her. Silently praying that her punishment wouldn’t be as severe as usual, Aerith walked up to the front door. The only trouble was, there was already someone standing before it. Her heart sank.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise.”

Lady Scarlet descended the steps leading to the front door. The _click-clack_ of her heeled shoes was the only sound between them. The long, tight red dress she was wearing hugged her frame nicely. (A bit _too_ nicely -Aerith could practically hear the seams at the bust crying out, “help us!”). _You might want to tuck yourself in before you lose something,_ she thought to herself. Despite her increasing anxiety, she smiled slightly.

“I thought you’d be dead with how late you are,” Lady Scarlet sneered, “but that would be more in my favor than yours.”

As much as she wanted to scream, Aerith made her voice as meek-sounding as possible. “I’m sorry. The market was very busy today. But I got everything you wanted.” She held out the basket with both hands.

Lady Scarlet gave the basket a distasteful look. “Busy enough for you to be gone for six hours? I’m not stupid, girl. Stop treating me so.” Before Aerith could respond she snatched the basket and looked inside. She clicked her tongue as she said, “I gave you more than enough for just _two_ potions.”

Aerith’s heart froze. She had completely forgotten to buy more with the money Zack reimbursed her with. “They were...out.” she replied lamely, fumbling around with the spare gil in her pocket.

Scarlet took a step closer to her, her eyes narrowing. Aerith flinched slightly as a cold hand wrapped around her chin. “What did I _just_ say,” Lady Scarlet said, in a very tense voice, “about treating me like I’m stupid?” She squeezed Aerith’s face in her hand, her sharp nails digging into her cheeks.

“...I’m sorry,” Aerith whispered, clenching her jaw in pain. “I gave one to someone in need, and they reimbursed me -”

“Stop talking!” her stepmother snapped, her nails digging deeper into Aerith’s face. “I don’t want to hear any more of your pathetic excuses.”

Aerith tried to nod, wincing slightly.

“I can assure you,” Lady Scarlet said in a sudden whisper, bringing her face very close to Aerith’s, “that if you give me another excuse about why you didn’t do what you were told, I will make you wish you had never been born. Is. That. Clear?”

Aerith swallowed hard, wishing the tears in her eyes would disappear. The piercing pain of her stepmother’s long, sharp nails in her cheeks was getting to be too much. And as much as she wanted to look at anything but Lady Scarlet’s face, she found herself unable to do so. Her stepmother’s eyes were a pale green, completely lacking in warmth. The thick makeup around her eyes only seemed to accentuate her promiscuity. Everything about her stepmother reminded Aerith of the things that were truly bad in the world – greed, hatred, unnecessary cruelty, and pettiness.

Lady Scarlet was still awaiting an answer. Aerith nodded. She felt a sudden warmth on her face – not from tears, but from blood. Lady Scarlet withdrew her hand from Aerith’s face, and Aerith gasped at the cool night air making contact with her wounds.

“I have an important meeting to attend with the Royal Court,” Lady Scarlet said in a smooth voice. Aerith could hear the barely restrained pride in her words. “an urgent matter has come up, but I should be no more than a few hours.” She glared, and Aerith had the distinct feeling of being a small mouse being hunted by a hawk.

“You are not to leave the house, talk to my daughters, or touch their things. We don’t need your grubby little paws on their belongings.” Lady Scarlet said, her voice soft, yet dangerous. “You are to do your chores and go to bed without dinner. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Aerith answered with a heavy sigh.

“Yes, _what?”_ Lady Scarlet enunciated, her voice more taut than ever.

“….yes, ma’am.” Aerith said quietly.

“Good girl,” Lady Scarlet said dismissively, straightening up and adjusting her coat. “Oh, look at that.” She held up the expensive watch on her delicate wrist. “You made me late.” And with that final word, Lady Scarlet made her way down the street.

Aerith made a face at her stepmother’s retreating figure. Just as quickly she winced, holding a hand up to one side of her face. Her cheek felt hot and sticky beneath her fingertips. Quickly opening the front door, Aerith slid inside the house. She gently pushed it shut, being careful not to make any noise. It would be just her luck that her stepsisters heard her come in and demand things of her. The door closed with a soft _click,_ and Aerith breathed a sigh of relief. She slipped off her shoes and moved further into the house, her footsteps nearly silent.

Arriving in the kitchen, Aerith quickly put away the buns from the bakery and the potions. After hanging her flower basket on its hook, she quickly walked to the main floor bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she looked in the mirror.

Two identical crescent-shaped marks were imprinted in her cheeks. As Aerith leaned in closer she noticed that not only were they bleeding a little, but small purplish bruises were already starting to form underneath them. They made a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face.

“You’re not exactly a sight for sore eyes,” she said to her reflection, with a half-smile. Turning on the faucet, she dabbed her fingers with cool water and gently pressed them to her cheeks. Aerith had to stop herself from crying out – the pain flared like a surge of fire. She bit her lip hard as tears filled her eyes.

A sudden series of sharp knocks on the door made her jump.

“Are you in there?” one of her stepsisters called.

Aerith’s heart sank. She knew it was only a matter of time before Jezebel and Delilah knew she was home, but the moment came too quickly. “Yes?” she replied, inwardly groaning at the crack in her voice.

“Oh, so you _are_ home.” Before Aerith could answer, her stepsister continued. “About time. My room needs tidying up.”

“O-Okay,” Aerith said, gritting her teeth as the pain in her face raged. “I’ll be...I’ll be out in a minute.”

“You better be, cause I’m timing you.” the voice snarled. “If you’re more than one minute I’ll think of something else for you do to.”

Aerith let out a quiet sigh as the shadow of her stepsister’s feet disappeared from underneath the door. She glanced in the mirror once more: the marks in her cheeks looked redder than ever. Aerith gently patted them dry with a towel, hissing as the fabric made contact with her face. She caught sight of the yellow lily, still tucked neatly behind her left ear.

 _I made a friend today,_ she thought suddenly.

In spite of the many chores she would be doing, and the reality of her family’s cruelness, Aerith felt herself smile.

_______

The large sword made contact with the training dummy, letting out a satisfying _whack!_ Over and over again Zack swung the sword, the dummy swinging farther away from him each time. Zack grunted in exertion, slicing his sword through the air. Sweat poured down his face, running into his eyes, but Zack ignored the sensation. His arms were screaming in pain. His hands were holding the handle of the sword so tightly his knuckles were white. Zack’s entire body was taut, stressed and tense, like a string on a violin that was tuned too tightly.

Despite the pain, Zack didn’t let himself stop. If he did, he would think about what just happened again. And he wanted to do anything but that. Pain and sweat were good distractions.

“ _I’m dying, Zack.”_

He raised his sword, ready to strike.

“ _They don’t know what’s wrong, but my cells are degenerating.”_

Zack tightened his grip on the sword, clenching his jaw.

“ _This also means you need to prepare to wed.”_

 _THWACK!_ The dummy, having been sliced and beaten to nearly a mop of fabric and straw, fell to the floor. Zack gazed at it, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Leaning against his sword, Zack wiped the sweat off of his face. Despite his best efforts of not letting himself think, his mind wandered.

The news of him having to wed wasn’t as big of a shock as his father dying. But it was a shock all the same. _Especially_ the fact that it would be an arranged marriage to a girl from some distant kingdom. If he had it his way, he’d take the route that everyone else did: meet someone, date, gradually fall in love and get married.

People outside of royalty never knew how lucky they were.

Zack always knew that he would be King one day. But he didn’t expect it to come so soon. He’d barely had his twenty-second birthday, for heaven’s sake. Now everyone expected him to be married within a very short period of time. It wasn’t that Zack was against marriage; the pressure of finding someone so soon was a bit ridiculous. It was as if his father shook his hand and said, “Well Zack, there’s the worst news of your life! Now we’re gonna go find some random chick from Wutai and marry her! Good luck!”

Zack shook his head at himself, shame filling his heart. His father wasn’t like that at all. And it wasn’t as if the King had _planned_ dying so soon – it was just as much a surprise to him as it was to Zack. And yet, despite those facts, Zack still felt a tiny shred of animosity. Wasn’t he too young to be a ruler of an entire country? Didn’t they know he was vastly under prepared? Couldn’t the physician find some kind of solution, a way to delay his father’s mysterious illness, until Zack had a firm grip on things?

Didn’t they know that this was too much for him?

Zack let out a shaky sigh, wiping his suddenly watery eyes. This was no time for tears. He needed to show his father his support now, more than ever. _It’s time for me to step up,_ he thought to himself, swallowing hard. _This wasn’t fair to me or Father. But stupid stuff happens, and you gotta deal with it anyways._

He walked over to the adjacent wall and put his sword up on its mount. Zack felt determination fill his soul, surrounding his heart and passing through his bloodstream. He would do it. He would swallow his own selfish feelings. He would help his father in his last days. He would find someone to marry, even if it wouldn’t be for the reasons he wanted them to be.

A familiar face crossed his mind: light brown hair tied up in a braid. A gentle, kind smile. Wide, ethereal green eyes.

For the first time since hearing the news of his father’s illness, Zack felt himself smile.

_____________

It had only been a short while since the Prince came home and spake with his father, but it had felt like eons in Duke Reeve Tuesti’s mind.

Shortly after the Prince was made aware of the news, King Angeal ordered Reeve to contact the rest of the members of the King’s Court to an emergency meeting. Knowing that he did not have long to live, the King’s drive and determination only seemed to increase. Whereas other men would have shrunk at the news of death, King Angeal only embraced it. Even in sickness and times of grief, Angeal moved forward and refused to look back.

Reeve admired and respected the King for many reasons. But dealing with the other members of the Court was _exhausting._

“I’d like to thank you all for coming,” he said, forcing a smile as he glanced at the other Court members. “especially on such short notice.”

Lady Scarlet was glancing into a handheld mirror. Sir Palmer was rather fixated on his cup of tea. Lord Heidegger sat in his chair, arms crossed and scowling. Professor Hojo was staring into space, twiddling his thumbs. Reeve was used to the other members of the Court blatantly ignoring him. They had been doing so as long as he had been there.

 _Thanks for the warm welcome,_ Reeve thought to himself bitterly.

“Where is the King?” Heidegger asked, in a blasé tone of voice.

Reeve’s fake smile already felt pained. “His Majesty is on his way.”

Lady Scarlet let out a drawn-out sigh, snapping her handheld mirror shut. “This better be good.”

There were occasions where Reeve had wanted to march right up to Lady Scarlet and strangle her, but none were quite as powerful as the present moment. Clenching his fists, Reeve swallowed hard before stating, “I assure you all, it is of vital importance.”

“Surely,” Professor Hojo said, a crooked smile adorning his lips, “otherwise you would not have called us all at such short notice.”

Hojo’s tone of voice was soft, almost soothing. Yet underneath his words there was a thin, almost invisible layer of coldness. Most would not notice it and pass his remark off as sincere concern. Having worked with Hojo for many years taught Reeve one thing: if Hojo was acting considerate in any way, it was only to obtain something he wanted. Reeve’s suspicions were confirmed as he looked at Hojo: there was nothing in his eyes. No concern. No warmth. He would’ve found more emotion staring into the empty sockets of a skull.

“So what is this urgent matter?” Sir Palmer asked, smacking his lips after a sip of tea.

Reeve let out a deep sigh. “His Majesty will tell you that when he arrives.”

As if on cue, there was a short knock on the door. The other three members of the Court rose as the door opened. King Angeal walked through, looking more somber than usual. Reeve pulled out the head chair for him to sit in, and the King sat down. The rest of the Court members, including Reeve, sat down as well.

“Thank you all for coming,” King Angeal said, adjusting himself in his chair. After making himself comfortable, he looked at each member of the Court individually. After a short pause, he added, “I’m afraid the reason for calling you all here isn’t good news.” He ran a hand down his face. Reeve noticed that the King’s hand was already looking aged. Where there was once smooth skin, there were now abundant wrinkles.

It seemed that Reeve wasn’t the only one who noticed it. Lord Heidegger had suddenly straightened up in his chair. Lady Scarlet was scrutinizing the King’s hand. Professor Hojo cocked his head in interest. Sir Palmer merely blinked in confusion.

“As some of you know,” the King began slowly, “I have been feeling especially exhausted lately. At first I thought it was merely a case of overworking myself. But no matter how much I slept, it was as if I didn’t sleep at all. And then there was the day I was walking with my son on the grounds and fainted.” He let out a long sigh. “At that point I felt it wise to seek Professor Hojo’s opinion. He came this afternoon and told me some...unexpected news.”

The rest of the Court remained silent, staring at King Angeal. Reeve gently laid a hand on the King’s arm in reassurance.

King Angeal gave Reeve a small smile before continuing. ‘Professor Hojo, would you please explain your findings?”

“Certainly,” Hojo said, in a somewhat cool tone of voice. He looked at the other Court members and said, “I took a few blood samples and examined them. I cannot tell you why, but it appears that the King’s cells are degenerating. There is no other sign of sickness or infection.” Hojo frowned as he said, “Since it is already in his blood, it is only a matter of time before it reaches his nerves and brain.”

Reeve glanced at his colleagues. Lord Heidegger’s face had it’s normal, stony expression, but his eyes were wide with shock. Sir Palmer had gone pale. Lady Scarlet had a hand over her mouth.

“Your Majesty,” Sir Palmer said, breaking the silence, “does that mean you’re -?”

“Yes,” King Angeal sighed. “I’m dying. Hojo has done some research, but so far he doesn’t know how – or if – he can stop it. I’ve got a few months, at best.”

Reeve saw Lady Scarlet and Professor Hojo exchange the very smallest of glances. A knowing look passed between them. Reeve’s heart froze. He had never trusted the other members of the Court in the first place, but now he seemed to have good reason to. Why would the two of them look at each other like that? It couldn’t have been for no reason. _I need to keep a close eye on them,_ Reeve said to himself.

“Your Majesty, I am very sorry to hear of this.” Lady Scarlet said, her voice drenched with sympathy. She leaned across the table, and Reeve immediately averted his eyes from the spillage. “if there is any way we can help you, please let us be of assistance.”

King Angeal nodded. “Thank you, Scarlet. That is actually why I called you all here.” He straightened in his chair and continued, “As you are all well aware, when I pass on the crown will fall to Zack. We don’t know when that will be, but I want to be prepared in case it...happens suddenly.” Hearing the King talk so candidly about his own death gave Reeve goosebumps.

King Angeal continued, “The law clearly states that in the event of the sudden death of the King, the Crowned Prince must be wed before taking the throne. This is to both continue the family line and to ensure peace between nations. That’s why the marriages are always arranged.” He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was quiet but very firm. “But I have always felt that Zack deserved more than that. He is a good young man, and I feel badly enough about rushing him into marriage so soon. I want him to be happy with whoever he marries.”

“Well, what about having him choose?”

Everyone stared at Lady Scarlet. Reeve couldn’t blame them. The idea of Zack choosing his bride was not only new, it also seemed a bit ludicrous. For centuries those of the Hewley line were married off to those from neighboring or distant countries. Even Angeal’s wife had not been a resident of Midgar.

“Think about it,” Scarlet said smoothly as she looked at the King. “that way you get both. In the event of your death, the law is still followed. But your wish of Zack marrying someone he loves is also granted.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Lord Heidegger asked, rubbing his chin.

“Well, I of all people should know that you don’t fall in love overnight.” Scarlet casually took Palmer’s teacup off of its saucer and took a sip of tea. “Especially for one as fair as the Crowned Prince. But as we need to make things happen quickly, why not an event where he can meet multiple women at once?”

As much as Reeve hated to admit it, he found himself agreeing with Scarlet. “Your Majesty, a party of some sorts would speed up the process. We could send invitations to as far as Cosmo Canyon, if you so desire.”

King Angeal thought for a moment, his brow furrowed. After a few minutes he nodded in Scarlet’s direction. “Lady Scarlet, thank you for this suggestion. I think it will work perfectly. We will plan for it as soon as possible.”

Lady Scarlet smoothed the fabric of her dress, smirking to herself. “Thank _you,_ Your Majesty.”

_______

The meeting had adjourned nearly ten minutes ago, yet Lady Scarlet stayed just outside of the palace walls. The night had grown cold, and she wrapped her thick coat tightly around her. The tips of her toes peeking out from her high heels felt numb. She glanced at her watch and scowled; he was late. Typical.

The sound of footsteps echoing off of the walls caught her attention. Scarlet turned around, her arms crossed. “About time. Do you know how cold it is out here, or would you rather I froze to death?”

“My apologies,” a voice from the darkness said. “I had to give the King my condolences on behalf of his illness.”

Lady Scarlet let out a very unladylike snort. “I’m sure he was grateful. Not that your feelings mean much.”

“They don’t,” Professor Hojo said, emerging from the shadows and into the lamplight. “but I have to keep up appearances. We both do.”

“I’ve already been treated like I’m stupid today,” Lady Scarlet sneered, “and I’d _really_ hate for it to happen again.”

“Patience,” Professor Hojo said, in a calm voice. “everything is going to plan. You heard the King – I examined him, and I said he was ill. He doesn’t have a lot of time.”

Lady Scarlet looked at Hojo in interest. “How long?”

Professor Hojo gave her a crooked smile. “Shorter than he expects if I increase the dosage.”

“Let’s not be too hasty,” Scarlet warned. “we have to be careful. Aside from everyone else in the Court, we’re the closest ones to him. He suspects nothing of us so far.”

“It will stay that way, I assure you.” Hojo reassured. “How is the girl?” he suddenly asked.

“Aerith?” Scarlet frowned. “She’s fine, I’ve told you.”

“Because if she is in any form of bad health -” Hojo began, in a warning tone of voice.

“Patience,” Scarlet cut him off, repeating his former words. “she is _fine_. I assure you I am taking...good care of her.”

“Good,” Hojo said softly. “you do realize that she will be coming of age soon?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Scarlet huffed. 

“And you remember our promise?”

Scarlet’s lips bent into a smile. “How could I ever forget?”

Their meeting was so short, and in such a discreet location, that no one else seemed to notice. And yet, perched atop one of the palace walls, a pair of amber eyes was watching them.


	5. The Royal Decree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Aerith and Zack get closer, an announcement takes them - and everyone else - off guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this is so late. I've had a bit of writer's block with it, and with how busy I've been with school I just haven't had time. But midterms just ended (thank HEAVENS) and I passed with flying colors! yay! So I actually have time to breathe and write now! XD I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Please leave a comment if you liked it, those mean a lot to me and give me TONS of motivation, which I seem to lack lately. Hope you're all well! <3 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake, or any of the characters involved in either franchise.

“Aerith, are you okay?”

Aerith snapped out of her concentrated gaze on her flower arrangement to look at Lily. The small girl was looking up at her, concern in her big green eyes.

Aerith forced a small smile. It was a bad idea—her cheeks hurt. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just tired.” It was the understatement of the universe, but Aerith would rather endure more cuts on her face than make Lily worry. She was just a little girl. _It’s my job to worry about you,_ _Lily_ _._ She thought to herself. _Not the other way around._

“Oh, well maybe you should take a nap!” Lily suggested, a smile returning to her face. “Maybe Miss Forsyth will let you sleep in my bed!”

Aerith let out a small chuckle. “That’s very kind of you, sweetheart. But really, I’m alright.” She gently caressed Lily’s smooth cheek with the back of her hand. “I appreciate your offer, though.”

“You’re welcome!” the little girl said brightly before walking away. At her turned back, Aerith let her smile drop. She turned back to the flowers in the vase, blinking slowly. Her eyelids felt like they were made of lead. The daunting thought of all the chores she still had left to do at home only made her exhaustion more apparent.

Aerith had barely slept last night.

The “tidying-up” that her stepsister asked her to do was more along the lines of, “deep clean the entire room.” She had swept, dusted, polished and scrubbed so much that her fingernails still felt soft and malleable the morning after. The hunger pains that were so present in her stomach didn’t help out her cause. By the time Aerith finally made it to bed, she was sure she would be asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

But the cuts in her face burned, and they continued to sting all night long. The water she put on them did next to nothing. Aerith had to restrain herself not to sneak downstairs and get a potion or remedy. She simply gripped the bed sheets in her hands, urging herself not to cry. The salt in her tears would only make them hurt more.

By the time Aerith finally fell asleep, she had to wake up again an hour later.

 _No use in complaining about it,_ she thought heavily. _It was my fault, anyways. I was late. And it could’ve been worse. _

… _.but it could’ve been better, too._

Aerith pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a sigh. That much was true; things could be better. A lot better. But there was nothing she could do about it. Lady Scarlet was her legal guardian. Until she turned of age – which was 21 in the Kingdom of Midgar – she couldn’t leave, as much as she wanted to.

“You look exhausted.”

Aerith looked up again to see Miss Forsyth standing across the table from her. Aerith mustered up what little energy she had to sound cheerful. “I am, but I’ll survive.” She turned her eyes back to her flower arranging.

Her friend raised an eyebrow. “Lily said something about you sleeping in her bed. Now I know what she meant. You’re practically dead on your feet.”

Aerith grabbed a small pair of pruning shears and gently cut the stem of a few daffodils before answering. “I just didn’t sleep well last night. But I’m fine, I promise.”

“Fine enough for you to almost cut the end of your finger off?”

“Huh?”

Aerith looked down at her hands. The small pruning shears were wide open, ready to trim the stems of the flowers. Upon closer inspection, Aerith noticed that the shears were about to close on her pinky finger. The idea of accidentally chopping a bit of her finger off sent a jolt through her.

“…oh.” was all she could say.

Miss Forsyth sighed, gently prying Aerith’s hand off of the shears. “I want you to go upstairs and sleep in my bed, right now.”

“But -”

“I’m not taking no for an answer!” the fire in Miss Forsyth’s eyes made Aerith want to shrink back from her a little. “Honey, you are beyond exhausted: you’re a danger to yourself. You need sleep.”

Aerith gestured to the flowers. “I’m not done yet -”

“Oh please,” Miss Forsyth said, rolling her eyes, “I can finish those up. The kids are all outside playing, anyways.” She gently pushed Aerith in the direction of the stairs. “Go on. If you protest anymore I _will_ carry you myself.”

Aerith opened her mouth to argue, but a yawn came out instead. Miss Forsyth looked very pleased with herself. She pointed towards the stairs, and Aerith reluctantly made her way upstairs.

 _Of course Lily would tell Ms. Forsyth about me being tired, _Aerith scolded herself. _I shouldn’t have said anything._

Miss Forsyth’s room was a lot like her own at home: quaint, but comfortable. She gently laid down on top of the covers of the bed. The coolness of the pillowcase was pure bliss on her swollen cheek.

 _Just for a few minutes,_ Aerith said to herself. _I don’t have a lot of time to do this. Still, it was nice of her to offer._

Aerith didn’t even have time to think of when to wake up. Sleep had already wrapped her in its arms.

_____

The good news was that Aerith had a peaceful, dreamless sleep. The bad news was that by the time she awoke, it was already early afternoon. She only had a few hours until she was needed back home. After quickly thanking Miss Forsyth and hugging Lily goodbye, Aerith ran to the church in Sector 5. She filled her flower cart with flowers and ran to the market. _I’m going to have to sell for a few hours less than usual today,_ she thought as she dragged the wagon behind her. _If I’m late again I’ll never hear the end of it._

“There you are!” a familiar voice said.

Aerith skidded to a halt, the wagon hitting the back of her knees. Wincing slightly, she glanced to the usual spot between two booths where she usually sold her flowers. Kaz was standing there, leaning against the wall behind him with his arms crossed. He smiled at her, waved, and began to walk towards her. His cape billowed behind him. “I was wondering where you were.”

“Oh, sorry,” Aerith said, hating how awkward her voice sounded. “I was...running a bit behind schedule today.”

“Are you alright?” Kaz asked, his brow furrowed. “You look really tired.”

Figuring that “really tired” was only one step below “exhausted,” Aerith simply shrugged. “Didn’t sleep well last night.” She gave Kaz a smile, then proceeded to walk towards her space. “But it’s gonna take a lot more than that to stop me!”

Kaz let out a small laugh. “I came to help again today. Is that alright?”

Aerith felt her heart flutter. Her smile, a bit forced before, felt completely natural. She looked up at Kaz and said, in a teasing tone of voice, “If you insist. You don’t owe me any favors.”

Kaz smirked slightly. “Don’t think of it as a favor. Think of it as help from a friend.”

 _Friend._ Aerith felt her smile widen, then quickly put a hand to her cheek in mock surprise. “Well, thank you. I’ll never turn down good company.”

“That’s all I am to you? Good company?” Kaz asked teasingly as he began to help her organize the flowers.

Aerith’s face felt warm. “Call it what you want,” she said softly, simply because she wasn’t sure what else to say.

She reached for a small bundle of lilies. Kaz reached for a bundle close to hers, and Aerith felt the warmth of his hand as it brushed her own. She felt herself stiffen, and quickly glanced at Kaz. He too seemed to have noticed what had just happened, but the smile on his face quickly dissipated as he noticed her discomfort. He gently grabbed the lilies he was reaching for and continued arranging them silently.

 _Why did you do that?_ Aerith scolded herself. She clasped her somewhat shaky hands together as she pondered. _It’s not like he was going to -_

Aerith quickly cut her thoughts short. She didn’t want to go there. Not today. She grabbed more flowers and turned her back against Kaz so he wouldn’t see her surely troubled expression. A part of her almost wished he would go away for a moment, just so she could get her bearings.

And yet, her mind kept returning to that one moment. The back of their hands had barely touched; why did it have such a huge effect on her? For the smallest moment Aerith felt her heart leap with joy at the sudden contact. But it was quickly taken over by her body’s reaction to any sort of touch: bracing for impact, as if she were about to be the victim of some sort of violence.

Aerith looked over her shoulder at Kaz. He was arranging the flowers in small patches, a concentrated look on his face. Aerith’s eyes traveled to his hands: they were holding the flowers delicately, almost tenderly. With the lilies that were drooping slightly, he gently tweaked the stems so they would stay upright. Looking at her friend, Aerith found herself remembering when he bought a flower and tucked it behind her ear. He had secured it enough that it wouldn’t fall, but was still soft enough that she wasn’t caught off-guard.

Even now, she could still feel the warmth of his fingertips.

 _He wasn’t going to hurt you just now,_ Aerith’s heart seemed to whisper.

Her mind retaliated with force. _**You don’t know that.**_

“There we go!” Kaz’s voice interrupted her internal struggle. “What do you think?” He asked with a smile, gesturing to the flowers.

“They look great,” Aerith replied, forcing a smile. “thanks for the help.” Her voice sounded tired, despite the long nap she just had.

Kaz frowned slightly, his head tilted in concern. Not trusting herself to speak further, Aerith turned her attention back to the flowers in her hand. She gently set them in the cart, avoiding Kaz’s eyes.

“Aerith...are you okay?”

The way Kaz asked the question, with such tenderness and warmth, brought tears to Aerith’s eyes. She blinked quickly in an attempt to get rid of them. Her mind, already so plagued with exhaustion, couldn’t seem to make up a decent fib. But if she didn’t find a good excuse, he would surely ask questions. And that would definitely lead to her saying something she shouldn’t.

After a moment, Aerith looked up at Kaz. In his bright blue eyes she saw nothing but concern. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to be a _little_ bit honest….

“Sorry,” she began with a sigh. “I’m really out of it today. I was up late last night cleaning, and after that I couldn’t fall asleep for a while.” She gave him a smile – a small one, but at least it wasn’t forced. “A friend of mine was kind enough to let me take a nap at her place. That’s why I was late in coming here today.” Aerith let out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry I didn’t explain it when I first got here. Like I said, I’ve been out of it all day.” She paused before adding, in a softer tone of voice, “but I do appreciate your concern.”

Kaz’s eyes searched her face. He slowly raised a hand and then, looking at Aerith as if to make sure she wouldn’t be frightened, gently touched one of the sores on her cheeks. His fingertips were warm, but Aerith was sure her face was warmer.

“What happened here?” Kaz asked, his brow furrowed.

Aerith said the first thing that came to her mouth. “I’m just clumsy.”

“These look like they really hurt,” Kaz observed. He pulled something out his pocket – a bottle of potion. “from the other day,” he said at Aerith’s puzzled look. “You left so quickly that I didn’t have time to give this to you.” He gently put it in her hand. “This should take care of it pretty quickly.”

Aerith felt a lump come to her throat. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said quietly. “but...thank you. Thank you very much.” She really hoped Kaz could hear the sincerity in her voice.

Aerith opened the bottle and took a swig of potion. Almost immediately she felt the healing effects on her swollen cheeks: her skin felt taut, and she had a tingling sensation as if invisible needles and threads were stitching her skin back together. In a few short moments, the pain that had so bothered her had vanished. She hesitantly put a hand to her cheek and felt smoothness. She couldn’t help but smile at the sheer relief of pain.

“ _There’s_ the smile I like to see,” Kaz said, also smiling. “feel better?”

“Much,” Aerith breathed. “Thank you,” she added again.

“It was the least I could do,” Kaz said, shrugging. Aerith’s smile widened as she noticed that his cheeks were slightly pink.

______

With the news of his father’s slow but sudden death, Zack had felt even more pressure than usual.

Everything in the castle seemed to be moving 100 miles an hour. Voices of servants, butlers, Duke Tuesti, and others sounded like they were underwater. Zack silently signed documents, attended some meetings, and tried to pay attention to what was going on. But all he could feel was the crushing weight of his new responsibilities. The air seemed harder to breathe somehow.

Everyone who knew of King Angeal’s illness put their best foots forward. Servants made sure he was comfortable as he could be, Professor Hojo did regular check ups, and Duke Tuesti was working overtime to make sure the citizens of Midgar were safe.

Everytime someone passed Zack in the halls, they looked at him with the same expression: “What now, Zack? What are we supposed to do?” The fear, concern and sadness on their faces tore into Zack’s heart. As much as he would’ve liked to answer their questions, he only knew as much as they did. But if Zack had it his way, time would stand still and him and his father would have all the time in the world. They would talk about anything and everything, and maybe Zack would mention Aerith.

But such thoughts were delusions of grandeur. A soon-to-be-crowned-King with a new bride had no time for such things.

The air in the castle was so suffocated with grief and worry that it made Zack feel sick. The more time went on, the more he wished to be below the plate. It was a different world down there. Things seemed much more simple. Not to mention he could pass as an ordinary citizen.

He made sure to let Duke Tuesti know he was heading out – promising it would only be for an hour or two – donned his cloak, and made his way to the slums. He hoped that being there for a little while would relieve some of the tension he felt.

“You know,” Zack said casually as he sold a few flowers to an elderly gentleman, “I’m almost jealous of you.”

Aerith looked at him in surprise. “Really? Why?”

“You’ve got it so simple down here,” Zack replied. “Not that I’m saying it isn’t hard for people,” he added quickly, “because it is. But down here you guys take time to appreciate the little things. Like these.” He held up a lily.

Aerith let out a light chuckle and said teasingly, “You make it sound like that’s something you don’t do often.”

“I...don’t,” Zack said honestly. “things are just too busy for me right now. I hardly even have time to practice sword fighting.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “But being here with you helps remind me.”

“Glad I could be of assistance,” Aerith said, taking a mock bow. Zack let out a laugh.

At that moment, a small boy stopped by the stall. “Aerith! Aerith!” he said excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Aerith greeted the boy with a smile. “Hello, Thomas. How are you doing to--”

“Did you see the announcement?!” the small boy blurted. He quickly covered his mouth, his eyes wide. “Sorry,” he whispered, his voice slightly muffled by his hands. “Miss Forsyth told me not to interrupt.” Zack let out a small chuckle.

“Just remember for next time,” Aerith said gently. “Now, what announcement are you talking about?”

“The one over there!” Thomas pointed against a far wall in the opposite direction. “Everyone’s talking about it! Wanna come see?”

Aerith shrugged with a smile. “Why not?” She turned to Zack, mischief in her green eyes. “You feel like skipping work today?”

 _I kind of already have,_ Zack thought to himself dryly. But he agreed, and the two of them followed Thomas.

“He’s one of the kids at the orphanage,” Aerith explained. “I help out there sometimes. He’s a sweetheart.”

“You volunteer at the orphanage, too?” Zack asked. At Aerith’s nod he said, “You really get around, don’t you? No wonder everyone knows you.”

Aerith smiled. “I help out where I can. It’s the least I can do.”

Zack looked at her in slight amazement as they walked. Here was a young woman, about his age, who had her own set of worries and struggles (as well as being very tired) and yet still insisted on helping others. She forgot herself, her exhaustion, her worries, and went to work. There were others Zack had met like her – namely his father, Duke Tuesti, and a few servants he was close with – but none of them seemed to do it with the grace and genuineness that Aerith did. She just seemed to radiate light wherever she went.

 _Careful Zack,_ he thought to himself as they came to a stop. _Don’t rush into it too fast._

“Here it is!” Thomas said, pointing to a large white sign nailed to an old fence. It was covered in thick, bold black ink that read:

**BY ORDER OF HIS MAJESTY KING ANGEAL OF MIDGAR, A BALL IS TO HELD AT MIDGAR CASTLE, IN WHICH ALL MAIDENS – TOP-PLATE AND BOTTOM-PLATE – ABOVE THE AGE OF 17 ARE TO ATTEND, FOR THE PURPOSE OF FINDING A BRIDE FOR HIS EXCELLENCY PRINCE ZACK. BE IT THEREFORE KNOWN THAT ALL MAIDENS ARE ABOVE THE AGE OF 17 ARE TO ATTEND WITHOUT EXCEPTION TO THIS BALL, TO BE HELD THIS UPCOMING SATURDAY.**

Zack stared at the sign, his mind racing. A ball? As in, a _dance? That’s_ how he was going to meet this girl he was supposed to marry? Zack almost made a face. The Kingdom of Midgar was already crammed with people; how could he possibly get through meeting all of those girls in one night? Even if it was only going to be those who were seventeen or older, it would take a long time. Zack felt his insides squirm as he imagined a giant flock of giggling girls surrounding him, batting their lashes and speaking in vapid tones.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zack saw Thomas tugged at Aerith’s dress. “You see?! A royal ball for all the girls, both above the Plate and below the Plate!” he looked up at Aerith, an excited smile on his face. “that means you can go, too!”

_That means you can go, too. That means you can go, too._

Thomas’ words took the breath right out of Zack’s lungs. The shock of a ball to meet a girl to marry vanished like smoke in the wind. His brain quickly seemed to connect two and two together, and he distantly wondered why he hadn’t realized it beforehand:

 _All_ maidens. Top-plate _and_ bottom-plate. To attend without exception.

_That means…_

He looked at Aerith, who was still staring at the sign, her brow furrowed. The clear image of the vacuous girls surrounding Zack vanished, to be replaced by one single girl. The same girl that Zack was seeing now. The same girl that stood right in front of him. The only girl he actually _wanted_ to be there. Zack couldn’t help but smile in pure excitement. He already knew who to choose.

 _Father, you are absolutely brilliant._ Of course, he would play the part that his father wanted him to. He would still meet and greet the other maidens for the sake of politeness. But Zack already knew: the moment Aerith arrived at the ball, he would make his decision.

 _You’ll have to explain the whole prince thing,_ an inner voice told him. Zack brushed it off, basking in his joy.

“Well, look at that,” Zack said, in an attempt to sound casual. Aerith looked at him in confusion. Zack cleared his throat. He still sounded far too eager to his own ears; heaven knows how he actually sounded. “I mean, it looks fun. And all maidens are invited to come.”

“It does,” Aerith said wistfully. She let out a sigh. “it’s a shame I can’t go.”

The warm euphoria that Zack was basking in suddenly turned ice cold. “What do you mean?”

Aerith paused, as if trying to decide something. After a moment she spoke, her voice quiet. “I don’t have a nice dress. Or the money to buy one. And I’ll be busy.”

Zack gaped at her. “Busy with _what?”_

“Chores,” was all Aerith said at first. Then she added, “and if my stepsisters are going – which they probably are – I’ll be helping them get ready.”

“But I--” Zack began, then caught himself. He started again: “but I’m sure the Prince would want you to go. It _is_ a royal order from the King.”

Aerith gave Zack a puzzled smile. “You’re sweet, Kaz. But I’m sure the Prince would be far more interested in someone other than me.”

______

“YOW!” Johnny yelped, shaking his hand. He hissed as the pain spread through his thumb like wildfire. He glared at the wrench that he had just dropped on his hand. “You stupid son of a--”

“Uncle Johnny! We got a problem!”

Johnny immediately stuffed a fist in his mouth. If Miss Forsyth heard that word out of one of the kids’ mouths, he would never hear the end of it. He straightened up, wiping sweat off of his brow. He put down the wrench and wiped his greasy hands on his dirty pants. Johnny turned from the car engine he was fixing to see Thomas, Oates, Jenny and Lily running towards him, looking frantic.

“What’s up, guys?” Johnny asked, leaning against the truck.

“Uncle Johnny, you saw the announcement, right?” Thomas asked hurriedly.

Johnny scratched his cheek. “The one about the ball? Yeah. So?”

“Well I showed it to Aerith,” Thomas explained, “but she said she can’t go!”

Johnny’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean she can’t go? She has to. It’s a royal decree.”

Oates shook his head sadly. “Thomas said that she said she didn’t have a nice dress. Or the money to buy one.”

“And that she’d be busy with chores and stuff,” Jenny added.

“But we know her family wouldn’t let her go anyways!” Lily said indignantly. “they _already_ treat her bad. Who knows how much stuff they’ll dump on her?”

“But she _does_ need to go!” Thomas argued. “Aerith deserves a night of fun!”

“As true as that is,” Johnny replied, slightly annoyed, “I wanna keep my nose clean. I’m already wanted in four different Sectors.”

“I guess this means Aerith isn’t going to the ball?” Oates asked sadly.

“How sad,” Jenny whined. “She really does deserve it.”

“Everyone needs a chance to get to the top plate,” Lily added wisely.

“And the only thing she needs is a dress!” Thomas added.

Each of the four kids clasped their hands under their chins and looked up at Johnny with big, sad eyes. Johnny closed his eyes. “No, that’s not gonna work this time -”

 _Wait a minute,_ Johnny thought suddenly. _Kyrie._

Johnny looked at the four children. Those big eyes of theirs were going to be the death of him.Johnny let out a defeated sigh, but smiled. “So what you’re saying is that she needs a night off and a nice dress to wear?”

“Yeah!” all of the kids responded.

Johnny smirked as he thought of her friend. Surely _she_ would be able to help, of all people. “Don’t worry. Uncle Johnny’s got a plan, and you kids can help.” _  
_


	6. With a Little Help From My Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Johnny and the children from the orphanage go to see a friend who can help their friend, someone from the palace goes to an old acquaintance for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry this is so late. I hope you've all had a great holiday season! My Christmas was quiet and simple, but very nice. I've been on break from school for the past week and a half, and I've got another week and a half before I head back. So I've actually had plenty of time to write! Which is good because this chapter has been HARD. Very fun to write, but hard! So prepare yourself for an adventure, because that's what I hope to accomplish with this new chapter XD I hope you enjoy it. Constructive criticism is always welcomed, and please leave comments and kudos :) 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII.

The woman in the parlor liked to watch the people go by.

It was always interesting to see how others lead their lives. There were those who were like stray dogs, begging for scraps along the alleyways. Some would be walking home from late-night work with blurred eyes, dragging their feet. Sometimes there were the exceptional few who would strut around in latest fashion, glorifying their wealth and general well-being to the slums.

The latter always made the woman’s blood boil. But being a lady, and having a high-establishment massage parlor, Madam M always kept her wits about her.

All the same, she couldn’t help but wonder about the man with the children.

It wasn’t that he looked young; he was probably in his 20s. However, the way he was dressed could have easily made him pass as a teenager. He had an arrogant air about him, as if he was ready to take the world by the tail and put it in his pocket. It was the same story with every young person she saw crossing her shop: they thought they could make it out of the slums, get lucky with some line of work and be successful.

But they never made it past the lower plate. _You’re not going to amount to much,_ Madam M thought as she looked at him. She smiled as she sipped her tea.

The young man had a bunch of supplies in his arms. They were completely random things - old thick books, a small leather pouch (probably full of gil), and some small boxes that made various sounds whenever the young man shuffled around. Surrounding him were two small boys and girls. The bunch of them looked no older than eight. The two girls looked nervous; fiddling with their hair, tugging at their clothes and their eyes wide. The boys were acting much more excited, albeit their smiles looking a bit nervous.

“You all ready?” The man asked in a booming voice.

“Yeah!” the boys cheered. The girls answered a few seconds after they did in hesitant agreement.

“Alright!” the man said, pumping a fist into the air. “Now, just as a word of warning: I want you kiddos to stick close to me. It’s pretty busy where we’re going, and Forsyth would have my head if anything happened to you guys. Does she know you’re with me?”

The small girl with blonde hair nodded. “She said it was okay as long as we were back in time for dinner.”

“Awesome,” the man said with a bright smile. “let’s do this then. For Aerith!”

“For Aerith!” the children shouted back, big smiles on their faces.

The man guided the children a few steps towards a decrepit, beat-up truck. The more Madam M stared at it, the more there was to see. The windshield had a giant crack across it. One of the side mirrors was completely gone, nothing but a small stub of metal left. The whole truck shook, and one of the small boys let out a shriek when a loud banging noise came from the engine. The man carefully opened up the side door, placed the heavy books on the seat, and put the children on top of each book one by one.

“Uh, Uncle Johnny? Are you sure this is alright?” the sandy-haired boy said, as if just now realizing what kind of predicament he was in.

“You’ll be fine,” Johnny replied breezily, waving a hand. “I used to ride around like this all the time, and I’m still here.”

“But is it legal?” the girl with blonde hair asked, her eyes wide with terror.

Madam M couldn’t see his face, but she knew that the man – Johnny, she corrected herself – was rolling his eyes. “Of _course_ it’s legal. Just hold on tight.”

After making sure the last child was secure, Johnny hopped into the driver’s seat. After a few screeching noises that Madam M sure weren’t good for the car, the car started. Black smoke emerged from the engine, filling the air with an acrid smell. Either Johnny didn’t seem to notice, or he didn’t care. He drove off, rolling the window down with his free hand as he went.

It was only then that Madam M noticed the faded logo printed on the side doors: _Royal Sanitation Services._

What on earth would this man be doing in an old palace garbage truck? And where did he get such a vehicle?

_I should follow them, just to make sure they are alright._

Madam M immediately shook her head. She had a business to run. It was no time to look after the welfare of four children and one very irresponsible adult.

But even so…

Madam M let out a sigh. Her conscience was going to get the best of her one of these days.

_______________________

Oates, who was sitting in the passenger seat, asked the question that was on everyone’s mind: “Where are we going?”

Johnny gave him a smile. “We’re gonna go see an old friend of mine. Her mom owns a dress shop on the Upper Plate.”

“I thought we were going to _make_ the dress,” Jenny pointed out, “not buy it.”

“We are,” Johnny said patiently. “the dress shop also has lots of spare fabric we can use.” He drove onto a busy street and began to speed up.

Thomas snorted. “Uncle Johnny, do you even know how to sew?”

Johnny merely focused on the road, ignoring the question.

Lily, who was carefully sketching something on a piece of paper, said, “I hope we can make it pink. Aerith looks nice in pink.”

Jenny hummed in disagreement. “I think she would look better in red. Or a light green.”

Lily looked up at her friend. “You think so?” At Jenny’s nod she added, “Hmmm. You may be right.” She held up her drawing. “What do you think?”

Jenny’s face broke into a wide smile. “It’s beautiful!” She let out a happy sigh. “Aerith is gonna look so pretty! I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she gets this dress!”

“She deserves it,” Oates agreed, turning in his seat to look at his friends. “she’s always so nice to us. Remember that one time she took care of us when we were all super sick last year?”

“She read to me,” Thomas said quietly, his ears turning pink. Oates and the girls gave each other a knowing look.

Johnny slowed the car down as they approached a tunnel. “Alright, things are going good so far. Oates, would you reach into that pouch and pull out those small cards?”

Oates opened the small leather pouch to find five small white cards hidden in the gil. “What are these?” he asked, holding them up.

Johnny smirked. “Those are our IDs. They are our ticket to getting to the top. Each of you need to take one.”

Jenny stared at the small card in her hands. “Where did you get them?” she asked, her voice both filled with wonder and shock.

Johnny ran a hand through his hair. “That’s classified information, Jen-Jen. Just trust me, they’ll work.”

He winced at his own words. The truth was, Johnny didn’t know for sure whether or not they _would_ work. He had bought them off of a vendor in Sector Five at a cheap price, and while the vendor seemed confident that they would work, Johnny wasn’t so sure. No one sold fake IDs for that low of a deal.

But it was the best he could get. Kyrie’s family shop was above the plate, and everyone needed an approved ID to get there. _Stupid Shinra and their paranoia,_ Johnny thought to himself. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. _Why does the King need all of this fancy tech stuff, anyways? He could just use the funds to actually help people in need._

Johnny shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking of politics. He had four children in the car with him, and they were on their way to do a good deed.

The screen of red light in front of them grew closer. Johnny swallowed hard. The kids in the car had gone silent. It was as if they too knew the potential danger of the situation. Johnny glanced in the rearview mirror. Lily was looking out the window, her eyes wide. Jenny was holding her fake ID so tightly that her hands shook. Thomas tried to appear calm, but Johnny could see the tenseness of his jaw. Johnny glanced towards the passenger seat. Oates was holding onto the edges of the chair, his breathing quickened.

Time seemed to come to a standstill as the red security light washed over them. Johnny could feel his heart pounding – any moment now it might leap out of his chest. He forced himself to appear calm and passive, as if this didn’t bother him at all. Hopefully that would give the kids some comfort.

The red light passed over their car. The tunnel was echoing with the sound of the vehicle, but nothing else. No alarms. No flashing lights. Just the sound of wheels on the pavement.

“See?” Johnny said. His voice was still a little shaky. “Nothing to worry about. And we’re almost there, so -”

A shrill, piercing, high-pitched alarm cut him short. Johnny felt his stomach drop to the floor. The kids pressed their hands over their ears in an attempt to drown out the horrible sound. Out of nowhere, bright lights appeared in the rearview window. At least five to seven security guards were catching up to them, the sound of their motorcycle engines nearly as loud as the alarm.

 _No wonder that guy sold them for such a low price,_ Johnny thought. _He knew they didn’t work._ He swore loudly. “We’re in a tight spot. Hang on, kids!” He slammed his foot onto the accelerator, and the truck shot forward.

“What do we do?!” Lily asked Jenny, her eyes wide with fear.

Jenny’s face had lost all color. “I – I don’t know!”

“What if we all go to jail?!” Thomas shrieked, his ears still covered in an attempt to drown out the noise.

“We’re dead,” Oates whispered, staring at the lights behind them. “we are so dead.”

“Listen!” Johnny shouted over them, gritting his teeth, “We are _not_ going to get caught, we are _not_ going to jail, and we are _not_ going to go down that easy! This is for Aerith, remember? She deserves this!”

The security guards were gaining on them, their bright lights blinding. There wasn’t a lot of time. Johnny’s brain scrambled as he thought of something – anything – that would help them.

“Oates,” he said suddenly, “you take the wheel. I’ll deal with them.”

Oates’ eyes went wide. “B-But I don’t know how to drive!”

“You wanted me to teach you, right?” Johnny asked, looking at him with a smile. “well, now’s your shot. You probably won’t be able to reach the pedals, so I’ll have Thomas climb under you and do that part.”

“Really?!” Thomas asked in excitement. “Awesome!” He quickly unbuckled himself and climbed over the seat.

“Are you _crazy?!”_ Jenny screamed, her voice tight with terror. “He can’t drive! None of us can!”

Johnny was unrolling the window. “The best way to learn is by hands on experience!”

Oates scooted next to Johnny and hesitantly grabbed the wheel. Thomas tucked himself neatly on the floor of the car next to the pedals.

“Right pedal is to speed up, left pedal is to slow down,” Johnny instructed Thomas as he unbuckled his own seat belt. “And Oates, don’t jerk too hard on the wheel, okay? Small movements do enough.”

With all the grace and flexibility of a circus performer, Johnny quickly lifted himself out of the car window. The kids looked up as they heard a loud _thunk_ on the roof of the car.

“He’s lost his mind,” Lily whispered.

Johnny’s face appeared in the window, upside-down and the wind blowing through his hair. “I’ll let you guys know when to speed up or slow down.” And with cat-like agility, he jumped into the bed of the truck, a mere silhouette against the blinding lights.

______________

Sam knew who it was before she spoke. No one else came to his Chocobo Station in high heels and a dress, and he could hear the sound of her shoes from a mile away.

“Long time no see,” he said, not even bothering to look over his shoulder.

Madam M rolled her eyes. “Please. It hasn’t been _that_ long.”

Sam tightened the harness on one of the Chocobo’s saddles. The bird nuzzled his neck in affection. Sam smiled slightly before turning around to face her.

Madam M always looked very presentable: jewelry worth more than he could ever afford adorned her neck, not a hair on her head was out of place in it’s elaborate do, and a silk kimono hugged her frame. And yet, as beautiful and regal as she was, the look in her eyes seemed to sour the whole ambiance she was trying to portray.

Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed. She knew how to hide her emotions well. Her porcelain face and sharp features often reminded Sam of a fine, exquisite doll. Her beauty was a ruse, a distraction to those who, upon first impression, would never guess who she truly was. They’d never see her as Sam did now, with her eyes full of an intense, bright distress.

In all his time of knowing her, Chocobo Sam had never seen Madam M look worried.

“What’s wrong?” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Madam M quickly masked her surprise and stated coldly, “I need a favor.”

Sam lifted a bag of Gyshal Greens and put it over his shoulder. “That depends on what you’re gonna ask me.” He made his way towards the feeding station, and Madam M followed behind him. Sam glanced over his shoulder and added, “It can’t be like the last time you asked me for a favor.”

Madam M’s cheeks turned pink. “That was not my fault, and you know it!”

“Me spending a night in the Palace Jail and you sneaking away? You call that not your fault?” Sam opened the bag and began pouring the greens into individual feeding buckets.

“That was then and this is now,” Madam M said, raising her voice over the sound of the buckets being filled. “and this time, it’s important.”

“That’s what you said last time, too.” Sam pointed out.

She let out a small puff of breath, irritated. “Listen, Sam: I wouldn’t come here if I knew you couldn’t be able to do it. And we need to hurry.”

The tight worry in her voice took Sam aback. “What happened? Is it the shop?”

“No, no, no,” Madam M said impatiently, waving a hand. “the shop’s fine, I’m fine, the business is fine. I just...saw something that was concerning.” At Chocobo Sam’s raised eyebrow she let out a frustrated sigh. “You’d be concerned, too, if you saw a very irresponsible man take four children into a car that looked like it was going to break down any second.”

Sam let out a chuckle.

“It’s not funny!” Madam M snapped.

“Never thought I’d see the day when you’d get concerned over a couple of kids,” Sam replied, straightening up and still chuckling. “I think Hell has frozen over.”

“Look,” she said, after a long pause. Her voice was taut and barely restrained from shouting. “the four kids were from the orphanage, and I’ve seen that man around. He’s been arrested I don’t know how many times, and he’s attempted to swindle me twice. It can’t be good for them.” She stepped forward, looking at him intensely. “I think they were headed towards the Top Plate.”

“Why don’t you call the Palace Guards?” Sam suggested.

Madam M gave him an exasperated look. “Do you seriously think they’d believe me? Not even you do!”

Chocobo Sam knew her well enough to know that there were three things Madam M did not mess around with: children, the law, and any sort of potential trouble. This was bringing all three of them together.

“I believe you,” he said quietly. And he meant it. He tried not to smile at her surprised expression. “Do you need a ride up there?”

“I just...want to make sure they’re safe.” Madam M replied, just as quietly as he had.

It was a side of her he had rarely seen. No one expected the harsh, cold, fierce Madam M to be vulnerable. It made Sam smile.

“Fine,” he said, letting out a sigh. “but on one condition.” He smirked at her suspicious look. “You have to go to that ball with me.”

It took Madam M a full ten seconds to find words. “That ball is for every _eligible_ maiden, myself included. If I went with you, I wouldn’t count as being eligible for the Prince.”

“My point exactly,” Sam said bluntly. Before she could speak anymore, he added, “besides, you’re too old for him. Now, let’s go after those kids before trouble hits.”

_________________

“I don’t know what I’m doing!” Oates yelled, straining his neck to see out the windshield.

The car lurched forward, nearly catapulting the girls off of their seats. Jenny winced as the seat belt dug into her neck. “Watch it!” she yelled, giving a swift kick to the back of Oates’ chair.

“It’s me, not him!” Oates yelled, gesturing to Thomas.

Lily glanced behind her. “What’s Uncle Johnny doing?”

“I don’t know, but it looks illegal.” Jenny replied.

“ _Stop your vehicle! By order of the King!”_ muffled voices were saying from behind them.

“No can do,” Johnny yelled back. “so if you all would just leave us be, that would be nice.”

Jenny and Lily glanced at one another. Sensing the danger together, they held tightly to each other’s hands.

“ _This is your last warning! Stop your vehicle!”_

“FLOOR IT, THOMAS!” Johnny screamed.

Thomas pressed all of his weight onto the gas pedal, and the car shot forward like a rocket. Oates’ back pressed flat against the seat, his skinny arms shaking with exertion as he made various sloppy turns. Even with seat belts on, the girls were jerked back and forth.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Lily said weakly, holding a hand to her mouth. Her face looked slightly green.

A sudden bang interrupted everyone’s thoughts. Something whizzed past the car windows, trailing smoke before falling out of sight.

“They’re shooting at him!” Jenny screamed in horror. “Thomas, can’t you go any faster?!”

“The pedal is almost on the floor!” came Thomas’ muffled voice. “but I can try!”

Lily, who was taking stuff out of a small bag near her feet, squeaked in surprise. “Look!” she held up a small, oval shaped grenade. “I think he knew this would happen,” she added. “why else would he have them?”

Jenny quickly took the hand grenade, waited for the gunfire to cease, and carefully opened the small window that was above the bed of the trunk. “Uncle Johnny, here!” she handed him the small bomb.

“You just read my mind, little lady!” Johnny said brightly, as if this was all a nice stroll in the park. “there’s a few more in there, but I’ll let you know when I need them. Don’t worry,” he added at Jenny’s horrified expression, “I’m not gonna throw it _at_ them. We just need some coverage.” He turned back to the blinding lights, waving the grenade. “Lookee what I’ve got!”

“This is _awesome_!” Thomas yelled as Jenny shut the window. Even Oates had a small, nervous smile on his face. The girls gave each other confused looks before watching Johnny.

Johnny was certainly making a show of it. He pulled the pin of the grenade out with his teeth and spat it into the street. He aimed carefully, then threw the grenade with great force. When it hit the ground behind them, balls of flame and smoke engulfed the tunnel. The children could hear Johnny coughing.

“He got ‘em!” Oates yelled enthusiastically, looking in the rear view mirror.

“Not quite,” Lily warned as the smoke cleared.

It was true that some of the Guards were gone, but as the smoke cleared Jenny, Lily and Oates could see that they were still being chased.

“I don’t know where to go!” Oates cried, as they approached a fork in the road. None of the other children answered him; they were as lost as he was. Oates yanked the wheel to the right. Jenny, who had unbuckled her seat belt to hand Johnny the grenade, slammed into the door of the truck. She moaned in pain, rubbing her shoulder. Lily helped her sit up, and Jenny quickly put the seat belt back on.

“Keep going, Oates!” Johnny shouted, his voice barely heard over the sound of sirens. “We’re almost there!”

“We’re already going almost 100!” Oates screeched in response as he glanced at the speedometer. “I don’t think we can go much faster!”

“We can’t!” Thomas confirmed. “the pedal can’t go down any -”

_CRACK!_

A sharp ringing sound came from underneath the truck, and Thomas hastily put his other hand on the brake pedal. His eyes widened in horror. “Why aren’t we slowing down!?” He pressed harder on it, but the truck was going just as fast. “Oates! The brakes aren’t working!!”

“What?!” Oates shouted. “Lily, Jenny! Tell Johnny the brakes aren’t working!”

Lily opened the small window above the bed of the truck again. “Johnny! We’ve got major problems! The brakes aren’t working!”

Johnny let out a string of curse words. “The minute you exit the tunnel, take a left!” He commanded. “you’ll see a small shop with dresses in the window. Head there!”

“But how will he stop?!” Jenny screamed, her face white.

“He’ll find a way,” Johnny said simply. Lily and Jenny gave each other a look before tightening their seatbelts.

The girls relayed Johnny’s directions to Oates, and Oates obeyed. The moment they left the corkscrew tunnel, he turned left. Buildings and streets passed by them so fast they were a blur.

“I see it!” Jenny shouted, pointing straight ahead. “There’s the shop Johnny was talking about!”

“How do I stop?!” Oates screeched, panic lacing his voice.

Thomas glanced to his left. There was another small pedal slightly above the floor. With no other reason than fear for his life, Thomas used all of his weight to press it down. The air was full of the sound of screeching tires on pavement, and the smell of burning rubber filled everyone’s nostrils. But by some miracle, the truck was coming to a stop.

What happened next happened so fast that no two accounts of it were the same. To Jenny, it looked like Oates deliberately swerved the car into the side of the dress shop. In Lily’s eyes, Oates was attempting to make the best parking job he could, but missed. Thomas, not being able to see anything, could barely hear over the squealing tires. Johnny, seeing the shop ahead of them, leaped out of the bed of the truck, falling to the ground with a thud. Lily and Jenny held each other, sure they were facing certain doom.

_BOOM._

The girls held their breath, waiting for glass and metal to rain down on them. After a few seconds, however, they felt nothing on their skin. Both opened their eyes to see that the car had come to a complete stop by crashing into the side of the dress shop. Shards of glass and large pieces of metal had buried the front of the truck, but nothing went past the windshield.

Jenny let out a shaky breath. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah,” came Thomas’ equally trembling voice. “I’m fine.”

“Oates, how about you?” Lily asked weakly.

Oates had to pry his fingers off of the underside of the steering wheel. “I’m good,” he said softly. “but where’s Johnny?”

The children quickly opened their doors and hopped outside. To their surprise, however, Johnny wasn’t in the bed of the trunk. He was standing short distance away, looking stiff as a young woman with long black hair shouted at him.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?!” she screamed, gesturing to the giant hole in the side of the shop. “Or how much this is going to cost?! This time you’ve gone too far, Johnny!”

“Kyrie, please,” Johnny pleaded weakly, holding up his hands, “just let me explain -”

“No! I don’t want to hear anymore of your garbage excuses! My mom already thinks so low of me, and now she’s gonna think this whole thing is my fault because I was here while she was gone!” Kyrie grabbed the front of Johnny’s shirt, balling it in her fist and drew his face close to hers. “So you are going to stay here until she gets back and explain what happened, capisce?!”

“I’m afraid he won’t be able to,” one of the palace guards explained as he walked up behind Johnny. He placed a set of handcuffs on his wrists. “he’s under arrest.”

“Wow, even better!” Kyrie yelled sarcastically. “Can’t wait to see how this works out for you, you idiot!” she roughly pushed Johnny away from her, huffing.

Johnny caught the children’s eyes. He gave them a small smile. “Glad you’re all safe. Looks like I’ll be away a while. Don’t forget about Aerith’s dress, okay?” The children merely nodded in shock as Johnny was led to a car and put in the backseat.

“Don’t tell me _you four_ were in the car with him?” Kyrie asked, dumbfounded.

“Yeah!” Thomas said, a weird excitement building in his veins. “it was _awesome!”_

“No it wasn’t!” Jenny retorted. “it was dangerous, and we shouldn’t have come!”

“We shouldn’t have,” Oates agreed, running a hand through his hair, “but...it was pretty cool. I learned how to drive!”

“...what’s this about?” Kyrie asked Lily, annoyed.

Lily briefly told Kyrie about the situation with their friend, and her lack of a dress. Instead of having sympathy, Kyrie only looked more infuriated. “Are you kidding?? I can’t just give dresses for free. This isn’t even my shop, it’s my mom’s.” she rolled her eyes.“But this is _really_ important,” Jenny urged, “she has to go because it’s the royal ball, but she doesn’t have a dress to wear! And she deserves to go!”

“Well, that’s not my problem! She should’ve found something earlier,” Kyrie replied briskly. “you four better get back home before Forsyth finds out what happened.”

“But you don’t understand!” Thomas shouted, “her family sucks and she never has time to herself! This would be a perfect chance to -”

“I said, scram!” Kyrie shouted over Thomas. “I have this giant hole in the wall to worry about now. I have no time to worry about this. And besides, you don’t even have any gil. Go home.”

“Poor Aerith,” Lily said sadly as the children began to walk away. “now she won’t get to go.”

“We tried our best,” Oates said heavily, dragging his feet. “I just wish we could do more for her.”

“...Hold on,” Kyrie called to them. The children turned around. “did you say Aerith?” They nodded. “as in, the girl that sells flowers in the lower plate?” Again, they nodded. Kyrie paused. She looked a bit at war with herself. After a few moments, she let out a deep sigh. “that changes some things. Come inside real quick.”

Hardly believing their luck, the children stared at each other, wide eyed as they entered the dress shop. Row upon row of dresses were hung up on racks, of all different fabrics and colors.

Kyrie spoke after a moment of tense silence. “Aerith saved my life once. I was about to be arrested for theft once, but she managed to create a distraction. If I had been arrested, no one would be left to take care of Mom and run this shop.” Kyrie let out a slow breath. “Even though we live above the plate, times are hard. We’re pretty poor. That’s why I have been taking so many odd jobs anywhere I could find them. If it weren’t for her, I’d be locked up in a jail cell and Mom would probably be dead.”

“So that’s how you know Johnny,” Oates surmised, “you must have met him in the slums.”

“Yeah. He’s a friend, but he’s also a complete idiot.” Kyrie deadpanned. The kids laughed, and she continued, “but yeah. I owe Aerith a favor. I’ll help out just this once.”

Lily piped up after a moment. “We do have a little bit of gil. We were hoping we could make a dress for her.”

Kyrie sighed. “Well then, I guess we better get to it. The ball is tomorrow. You’re lucky I know some things about this.”

____________________

Madam M let out a relieved sigh as Johnny was pushed into the car. “Well,” she said after a moment, “that takes care of that.”

“You satisfied?” Chocobo Sam asked from the front of the carriage.

Madam M gave him – or rather, the back of his head – a glare. “Always the tone of impatience. Yes, I am. Thank you,” she mumbled, as an afterthought.

Sam smirked to himself. “I guess I’ll take you home.”

“I would certainly hope so,” Madam M retorted, leaning back in the carriage seat, “I wouldn’t want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere.”

The carriage started moving slowly as the Chocobos began to walk. Madam M let out another sigh. The truth was, she _was_ relieved – that irresponsible neanderthal of a man was taken away. No longer would he try to swindle her, nor would he sway the children’s influence.

“See you tomorrow night,” Sam called as she exited the carriage a short while later.

Madam M rolled her eyes before walking into her parlor. Shutting the door behind her, she turned on a few lights while making her way back to her favorite chair.

The problem was, something was already sitting on it.

A small black and white cat was sitting on her couch, it’s tail twitching. Cats weren’t uncommon in the slums, but Madam M knew of only one cat that could sit straight up like a human. Its tiny paws were resting on the chair’s armrests, and its legs were crossed. Almost like it was waiting for her to waltz through the door.

Madam M blinked. The cat was still there. Madam M let out a sigh. “Reeve, what are you doing here?”

“Well hello to you too!” Cait Sith said cheerily. “Is this a bad time?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” Madam M groaned, sitting down in a chair across from him. “you will _not_ believe what I’ve been through this morning. It’s been chaotic.”

“I know the feelin’,” the cat said, rubbing a hand across its eyes. “ever since you left the Royal Court, it’s been beyond hectic.”

Madam M gave him a small smile. “It was hectic well before I was there. But you know why I had to leave.” Cait Sith nodded.

It was a strange thought, that a Duke of the Kingdom of Midgar and a hand masseuse knew each other well enough to be friends. But in the short time that Madam M was a part of the Royal Court, Duke Tuesti and her became acquaintances, then friends. Despite genuinely enjoying Reeve’s company – and deeming him as the only sane one of the group – Madam M left as soon as she was able. But every so often, Cait Sith would appear at her front door or in her house and the two would talk (Reeve hardly ever left the palace). Sometimes he would tell funny stories, or vent about a fellow member of the Court.

“I can’t stay long,” Cait Sith said quickly, “and I really hate to be a bother, but I need a favor.”

Madam M’s brow furrowed. Reeve was not one to ask for help, especially from outside the palace. “What is it?”

“There’s a girl who needs help gettin’ to the ball tomorrow. She’s got no nice clothes and no way of gettin’ there.”

“It’s no real loss if she doesn’t attend, right?” Madam M asked.

Cait Sith shook his head. “You know what the decree said. Every eligible maiden is to attend. If she can’t come, she could get in serious trouble since the decree came directly from King Angeal.”

“How do you know this girl?”

“She’s the daughter of an old friend of mine,” Cait Sith replied. “an old friend who passed away when Aerith was five. I’ve been watchin’ her for a while, just keepin’ tabs to make sure she’s alright. It’s easy to go into the slums like this since there are so many cats. And it’s not just that she has nothin’ nice to wear; her stepmum is more cruel to her than any woman I’ve ever known. I’ve seen bruises and scratches on that poor girl’s arms. Friends ask her what’s wrong and she says its nothin’.” Cait Sith let out a sigh. “There’s no way Aerith could go with her around.”

Madam M felt her blood chill. “If the stepmother is that cruel, and you know it, couldn’t you just arrest her?”

Cait Sith shook his head sadly. “Her stepmum is also a member of the Royal Court. And I hate to say it, but she does give vital input to the King during meetings. She has so much status and position that no one would believe me if I were to say something.” He gestured helplessly. “She’s a viper of a woman, and all I’ve got is my word against her. I need proof in order to arrest her.”

Madam M hummed. “Shame. So, if I’m to understand correctly, you want me to track down this Aerith and get her to the ball? And make sure she looks nice for it?” Cait Sith nodded. “You realize that making her look extra nice and getting a good quality dress is going to be costly, right?”

“Say no more,” Cait Sith said, reaching behind him and grabbing a small bag. He held it out in front of him.

Madam M took the bag and briefly looked inside. There was enough gil in there to cover a nice dress, and then some. She tucked the bag into her pocket. “Why is it so important that she come, aside from the fact that it is required by law and you care about her?”

“Because,” Cait Sith said, with another sigh, “the prince is in love with her. And I would not be surprised if he chose her as his bride.”


End file.
